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Xovell’e Mestminster Series 

JThe Year 

of Miracle 


V TAl.F. OF THF YEAR ONF THOUSAND NINF 
HUNDRFD 


nv 

; Fergus Hume 

ut/toro/"' The Mystery of a Ilansotn Cab^' Madavt Midas'' " Monsieur Jadas," 

Etc. ^ 

Xoveirs 

liaestminetev 

Scrfee 

NEIV YORK 41 

JOHN W. LOVELL 

150 WORTH ST., COR. MISSION PLACE 

■sued H^eehiy. Annua/ Subscription^ $12.00. September /S, 

Entered at the Post Office y New Yorky as second class matter. 


BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT WITH THE AUTHORS!^- 


LOVELL’S 


Westminster Series. 


4. 

5. 

6 . 

7 - 

8 . 

9 - 

10. 

11. 

12. 

13. 

14. 

15. 

16. 

17. 

18. 

20. 

21. 

22. 
23- 


Her Last Throw. By “The Duchess” 

The Moment After. By Robert Buchanan 

The Case of Gen’l Ople and Lady Camper. By Geo. 

Meredith 

The story of the Gadsbys. By Rudyard Kipling 

The Doctor’s Sec5.et. By “Rita” 

The Tale of ChTToe. By George Meredith 

The Old Courtyard. By Katherine S. Macquoid 

Frances Kane’s Fortune. By L. T. Meade 

Passion the Plaything. By R. Murray Gilchrist 

City and Suburban. By Florence Warden 

A Romance of the Wire. By M. Betham-Edwards . . . . 

The Havoc of a Smile. By L. B. Walford 

The Passion Play at Oberammergau. By Canon Farrar 

A Black Business. By Hawley Smart 

Missing ; A Young Girl. By Florence Warden ... 

Le Beau S.a.breur. By Annie Thomas 

A Marriage at Sea. By W. Clark Russell 

A Very Young Couple. By B. L. Farjeon 

JIe Went for a Soldier. By John Strange Winter 

Bride from the Bush. By a New Writer 

A L./-''''''RD in Love. By Jeanne Gwynne Bettany 

Work While ye Have the Light. By Count Lyof Tolstoi 
Under the Deodars, and other Tales. By Rudyard 

Kipling 

Merry, Merry Boys. By B. L. Farjeon 


2i 

25 


25| 

25 


2^ 


-3 

2S 

2d 

^5! 

25^ 

25! 

25] 

25' 

25 

25 

25 

25 

25 

25^ 

25' 

25 


25. 

25i 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE 


4 


I 



9 


* 







r 



THE YEAR OF MIRACLE 


Idle of the year One Thousand Nine Hundred 


15 Y 

FERGUS HUME 

A '' 

AUTHOR OF 

“the mystery of a hansom cab,” “madam MIDAS,” 
“monsieur JUDAS,” ETC. 







The breath of 


slays.” 


NEW YORK 


JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY 

150 WORTH ST., COR. MISSION PLACE 



\ 


Copyright, 1891, 

BY 

UNITED STATES BOOK COMPANY. 


A// rights reserved. 


CONTENTS 


iHAI’. 

' I. A STRUGGLE FOR LIFE 

11. HIS FIRST PATIENT 

I 

I III. THE THOUSAND AND SECOND NIGHT 

IV. THE FANTASY OF A MADMAN’s BRAIN 

V. DAY AND NIGHT 

VI. A WOMAN SCORNED 

VII. THE BURNING SICKNESS 

VIII. THREE DROPS IN A GLASS OF WATER 

IX. THE SPREAD OF THE PLAGUE 

X. RIVALS - - - . 

XI. NEMESI^ .... 

XII. THE AGONY OF DR. REBELSPEAR 

XIII. BETWEFN LIFE AND DEATH 

XIV. FOUND AND LOST 

XV. THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 

XVI. nelson’s column 

XVII. NEW ENGLAND 


PAGE 

7 

II 

22 

32 

4* 

50 

59 

67 

75 

83 

92 

100 

109 

119 

128 

137 

145 





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THE YEAE OF MIEACLE. 


CHAPTER I. 

A STRUGGLE-FOR-LIFER. . 

The door was that of a respectable-looking liouse 
in Weymouth Street, in the year one thousand nine 
hundred, and the bright, new brass plate attached 
to the door of the respectable-looking house, dis- 
played the name “ Dr. Francis Rebelspear,” engraved 
in fat, black letters, defiantly promment in their deter- 
mination to attract the attention of the public. Poor 
Rebelspear, he was very proud when he first obtained 
the right to use that title, looking upon it as a sure 
lure to those who desired to be cured by the appli- 
cation of the latest medical science ; but, evidently, 
the sick, the halt, the lame, and the blind — or rather 
the half-blind — mistrusted the inexperienced look of 
that new brass plate, for they invariably passed by 
on their way to some older practitioner, while Dr. 


6 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


Francis sat gloomily in his empty consulting room, 
wondering when his turn would come to experiment 
on the ailing bodies of his fellow-creatures. The 
first brief, the first sermon, the first patient — it is all 
very well to look back at them through the golden 
haze of success, but it is not so pleasant to look for- 
ward to them with a lean purse and an anxious 
heart. 

Rebelspear was anxious, terribly anxious, there 
was no doubt of that, for he had now been waiting 
many months for the incoming of patients, but as 
yet none had responded to the mute appeal of that 
brand-new brass i)late which so eloquently declared 
the mexperience of its owner. After finishing his 
medical education, and obtaining his licence to kill 
or cure, he had found himself a fully qualified M. D. 
with comparatively little money at his disposal. The 
rent, rates, taxes, and furnishings of the respectable- 
looking house in Weymouth Street, the constant 
paying out and nothing coming in, had reduced that 
comparatively little to almost next to nothing; and 
as civilised man cannot live without a certain amount 
of capital, Dr. Rebelspear’s future looked very 
gloomy indeed. 

He was young — just turned thirty ; he was clever 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


7 


---proved by sundry mystical letters tailing after 
his name ; he was hopeful — videlicet the sprat-to- 
catch-a- mackerel house *in Weymouth Street; but 
notwithstanding all these encouraging qualifications, 
it seemed as though this poor young man would be 
worsted in his encounter with the world. There 
were many many doctors, and, as a compensatory 
law, there were many many patients ; but he was 
one of the many former, and these many latter did 
not come his way. So, as he could not forcibly drag 
them into his consulting-room, he had to sit there 
biting his nails and waiting — waiting for nothing, it 
appeared to him, unless it was the dawn of the twen- 
tieth century. 

Here was a brilliant illustration of the Darwinian 
theory concerning the survival of the fittest. Ques- 
tion : Was Rebelspear one of the fittest who would 
survive ? Answer : Entirely depends upon his capa- 
city for holding out, or the public’s giving in. At 
present, the public had evidently no intention of 
giving in, and Dr. Francis could certainly not hold 
out much longer, so matters were thus at a dead 
lock ; and, unless a miracle occurred — but then the 
age of miracles is past. Twentieth century — Ma- 
terialism and a disbelief in the supernatural. Twen- 


8 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


tieth century — Dr. Rebelspear and a disbelief that 
he would ever succeed. An overcrowded profession, 
and Frank Rebelspear one of the crowd. A young 
doctor — a comparative pauper — a struggle-for-lifer, 
was there any chance of sending the ball rolling 
towards the Temple of Plutus by securing that im- 
portant first patient? Well, unless a miracle! — 
again ! Pshaw ! the twentieth century and miracles 
indeed. Fire and water were a better mixture. 

Nine o’clock, said the respectable black marble 
timepiece in the consulting-room — nine o’clock on a 
June evening at the height of the London season, 
and three people filled the empty room — well, hardly 
three, seeing the third was immortal and invisible. 
Dr. Francis and his friend, Julian Delicker, present in 
the fiesh, and at the door, the good fairy, Hope, pausing 
for a moment before finally leaving this unlucky house 
by the new brass -plated door. Hope, charming fairy 
who lightens the doleful hearts of poor humanity, 
looked at Rebelspear seated at his desk with his 
head on his hands and a dreary frown on his hand- 
some face, and then looked at Julian Delicker, lean- 
ing against the mantelpiece, in strange contrast to 
his friend. 

Julian Delicker, man-about-town, society butter- 


THE YEAH OF MIRACLE. 9 

fly, well-to-do idler, and old schoolfellow of Frank 
Rebelspear’s, who had come to cheer him up, and 
offer his help, his personal mfluence, his advice, in 
fact, everything except his purse, which was what 
the poor young doctor most needed. Hope looked re- 
gretfully at this tableau of wealth and poverty — of 
Grasshopper and Ant — but no, that comparison is 
hardly correct, for this time the fable was reversed 
and Grasshopper had the best of it, while Ant, 
unfortunate Ant, was in difficulties • of the most 
perplexmg nature. Will not Hope, the good fairy, 
stay where she is so much needed. No, she will 
not. Hope needs some inducement to remain, a 
promise, a prospect, a belief, but without one of these 
encouragements she flies, fickle fairy that she is ; 
and in this pitiful case, she fled with a tear in her 
eye, being loath to leave the Weymouth Street 
house. Still flnding no place in the heart of Rebel- 
spear she fled and left the worker to be consoled by 
the idler. 

Tick ! tick ! tick ! from the respectable black 
marble clock on the mantelpiece, against which 
lounged Julian. Yes, that was certainly excellent 
advice, but who would trust a pauper, who possibly 
could not conceal his deficiency of income. Still it 


10 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


was amusing, and his antique joke might cheer 
Rehelspear, so Julian translated the advice of the 
respectable clock to the desponding doctor. 

“ If things are so bad you’ll have to live on ‘ tick,’ 
Frank, at least so the clock saj'-s.” 

Dr. Rehelspear lifted his aching head from his 
hands and looked angrily at the timepiece and the 
adviser. 

“ If you came here to use slang and make jokes,” 
he said resen'tfully, “you had better go away as 
soon as you can. I’m in no humor for jesting.” 

“ I came here to take you to Sir Luke Kernshaw’s 
ball,” replied Julian, coolly arranging the carnation 
in his buttonhole — “ that is, if you care to come. It 
will cheer you up a bit.” 

“ Cheer me up ! ” echoed the doctor, with a dreary 
laugh. “ What a Job’s comforter you are, Julian. 

I have no money — I have no patients. I have no 
hope of things improving, and yet you talk about • 
my going to a ball to be cheered up— ridiculous ! ” 

“ At all events you will see Eva Kernshaw there.” 

“Worse and worse ! To see the woman I love, 
and know that I cannot hope to make her my wife 
because of my position. How can you suggest such 
a Tantalus-like torture, Delicker ? ” 


THE TEAR OF MIEACLE. 11 

“ Tantalus ! Tantalus ! Eh ! who was he ? Some 
Greek fellow, wasn’t he ? Don’t be classical, Frank. 
We had too much of that sort of thing at school. I 
don’t care about it now.” 

“You don’t care about anything, except yourself.” 

“And why not? Number One is the greatest 
number.” 

“ From a selfish point of view, I suppose it is,” re- 
torted the doctor, filling his pipe ; “ but I won’t go 
tp Kernshaw’s to be tortured by a sight of the unat- 
tainable and as for you, my friend, you’d better clear 
out, or the scent of tobacco smoke will spoil your 
nice evening clothes.” 

“ Don’t be nasty, Frank,” said Delicker, taking a 
seat. “ I have come to you, as your old schoolfellow, 
to see what I can do for you.” 

“ And, as I have told you before, you can do 
nothing, except break your leg and let me set it, or 
poison yourself and take the emetic I prescribe.” 

“ Apres / ” 

“Oh, you can trumpet my praises abroad 

as the best doctor you know, and all those brainless 
idiots you call your friends will come to me to be 
cured of their fancied ailments. I shall become a 
fashionable physician and get knighted. Eva will 


12 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


marry me, and from the splendid gloom of Harley 
Street Sir Francis and Lady Rebelspear will set forth 
to he presented at court.” 

Dr. Rebelspear spoke in a semi- jocular fashion, mak- 
ing a jest of his own poverty, but his laughter was 
very much akin to tears, and he hastily enveloped 
himself in thick clouds of tobacco smoke, lest Julian 
should see the nervous agitation of his face. De- 
licker, however, was not looking at his friend, nor 
even paying much attention to his grotesquely hitter 
speech, being quite absorbed in rolling a cigarette, 
which he did in a characteristically neat fashion. 

“ It’s about half-past nine,” he said at last, having 
lighted his roll of tobacco, “ so if you intend coming 
to the Kernshaw’s dance, you’d better dress at once.” 

“ I’m not going ! ” 

“ My dear old misanthrope, it will do you good. 
Sitting here waiting for mythical patients will only 
make you mope over your troubles ; while if you 
come with me, you will have a chance of speaking 
to Eva Kernshaw, and ” 

“ What’s the good,” interrupted Rebelspear savage- 
ly, “ it’s like showing a hungry man a dinner, and 
forbidding him to touch it. I adore Eva, and she 
loves me ; but because I am poor and unknown, her 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


13 


purse-proud old father won’t hear of an engagement 
between us. No ! no ! my dear would-be- comforter, 
Eva Kernshaw is reserved for wealthy young men 
like yourself, not for a poor devil like me, who has 
got nothing in this overcrowded world but his brains 
to recommend him.” 

“ If that is meant for me, Rebelspear, you can set 
your mind at rest. I am not a marrying man ; and if 
1 were, Eva Kernshaw is certainly not the woman 
I would choose for my wife. The other sister is 
the more charming of the two.” 

“Night!” 

“Yes! You adore golden-haired Day; I admire 
darkbrowed Night ; but while you want to marry 
Eva, I don’t want to marry anybody. Besides, 
Laura Kernshaw admires you.” 

“ Nonsense ! ” 

“ Oh, yes, she does ! Lucky man to be adored by 
two lovely women who have been painted by an 
R. A. as Day and Night. It’s a reverse of the judg- 
ment of Paris, my friend. To whom will you give 
the golden apple of discord ! ” 

“You are classical now,” said Rebelspear, with a 
faint smile ; “ but, indeed, you are mistaken. I love 


14 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


Eva, and she returns my love ; as for Miss Laura, I 
don’t believe she ever gives a thought to me.” 

“ Well, come to-night and we shall see.” 

Frank looked round the comfortable room, at the 
sombre row of medical books, at his study table, 
whereon lay a new number of the Lancet he 
wished to read, at the clock, at his friend, and 
finally shook his head. 

“Don’t tempt me, Julian. I have work to do.” 

“ Oh, nonsense. You know quite enough to cure 
any patient who comes, and as they don’t come, 
why worry your brains ? ” 

“ I must be prepared.” 

“ Well, one night won’t make much difference. 
No patient will come to-night.” 

“ No ! I suppose not,” said Rebelspear, gloomily ; 
“humanity must be healthier than it used to be, or 
there are too many doctors ; but, certainly, I don’t 
see much chance of making a living.” 

“ What a pity there can’t be a jolly good old 
plague.” 

“ Delicker ! ” 

“Well! what do you look so horrified for? It 
would do good in two ways. Give you patients and 
kill off a large number of the superfluous population. 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


16 


The world is getting overcrowded, and what with 
socialism, anarchy, war, famine, and Heaven only 
knows what, it’s a bad look-out for the twentieth 
century.” 

“ Possibly it is, but I don’t see how your receipt 
would improve matters.” 

“ Don’t you ? ” said Julian, with surprise ; “ my 
dear old mole, if all the weak, the sick, and the 
revolutionary were killed olf, think of how much 
smoother things would go. There would be more 
elbow-room — more chance of humanity developing- 
We would rid ourselves of a criminal population — 
bread would not be so dear — there would be work 
for all— in fact, the whole of this overcrowded 
planet we call earth would make a fresh start, not 
as savages, but with all the accumulated wisdom of 
centuries to begin with. Under these circum- 
stances, think what a brilliant twentieth century wc 
should have.” 

“ How horribly paradoxical you are,” replied 
Rebelspear, with a shudder. “ Y ou would sacrifice 
the many for the benefit of the few.” 

“Well, yes; if you like to put it that way. It 
would be a case of the survival of the fittest.” 

“ No doubt ; but think what a wonderfully dis- 


16 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


criminating plague would be necessary. To kill off 
all the criminals and starve the brainworkers. To 
put out of existence the lame and the deformed, in 
order to save the physically perfect. A most select- j 
ive plague, truly.” ^ 

“ Oh, you may laugh as you please, Frank,” said | 
Julian, rather piqued, “ but things are getting to such ' 
a pitch that unless we have a great war or a great 
plague everything will go to the devil.” 

“ There is not much chance of the one or the other. 
Military weapons have been brought to such a pitch (. 
of perfection that each nation is afraid of the other, j 
as a war in the present state of devilish ingenuity 
would mean the annihilation of one or the other ; | 
while, as for a plague, what with our recent dis- t 
coveries in medical science, sickness on a large scale | 
is not likely to occur. You can, therefore, my dear 
philanthropist, dismiss your bizarre idea of a plague i' 
as a regenerative measure for the humanity of the ^ 
twentieth century, and — ” 

At this moment the servant entered with a grin | 
on his face. “ Please, sir, a patient ! ” * 

“ A patient ! ” echoed Rebelspear, in a tone of dis- I 
belief. | 

“ Shakespeare,” cried Julian, with a gay laugh. 

“ There is a tide in the affairs of men — ” I 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 17 

« Oh, don’t quote any more,” said Frank, rising 
quickly. “ I’ll take this patient at the flood any- 
how, and if it, or rather he, leads on to fortune — ” 

“ Well ? ” 

“ I’ll marry Eva Kernshaw.” 


18 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


CHAPTER II. 

HIS FIRST PATIENT. 

So that difficult first step had at last been taken and 
Dr. Rebelspear had obtamed his first patient. Cer- 
tainly, when this long expected and much prized in- 
dividual appeared, he did not look very promising, 
as, judging from his looks, he was not gifted with a 
superfiuity of this world’s goods. Still he was dis- 
tinctly a patient— one who had come to ask the advice 
of the young doctor regarding his ailments, and that 
was something to be grateful for, so when the ser- 
vant had departed and the prize was safely caged in 
the consulting-room, Rebelspear took a long, long 
look at this shabby old man, in order to assure 
himself that he was flesh and blood, and not a mere 
phantom creation of the brain. 

Not that he looked unlike a phantom either, for < 
he was very tall and very thin, while his black clothes 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


19 


huiig round his bony frame in a loose fluttering fash- 
ion which gave him a wavering appearance. As he 
stood there in the strong electric light with his long 
white locks flowing over his shoulders, and his long 
white heard streaming down to his waist, both 
young men were struck by his unsubstantial look, 
which suggested all kinds of fanciful horrors. But 
his eyes — ah, those terrible eyes ! the light from 
which streamed out from under his frowning white 
eyebrows like the flash of gems — these gave a flerce, 
repellent look to his venerable face, a face lined and 
marked and scored and seamed with innumerable 
wrinkles betokening great age. His rounded shoul- 
ders were much bent, and with his thin hooked nose, 
his long claw-like fingers clutching his hat, and 
those brilliant eyes, he looked like some ill-omened 
bird of prey waiting to pounce on his victim. 

Julian stared at this grotesquely terrible figure in 
his usual nonchalant manner, then, shrugging his 
shoulders, prepared to take his departure, when 
Rebelspear stopped him. 

“ Don’t go, Delicker,” he said, quickly, resuming 
his seat ; “ when I have finished with this gentle- 
man I will go with you to Sir Luke Kernshaw’s. 

“ Sir Luke Kernshaw ! ” 


20 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


The echo of the name did not come from Julian but 
from that strange old man who stood rigidly by the 
door with the draught fluttering his loose garments, 
and his flerce eyes flashing their light first on one and 
then on the other. Both of them looked up in sur- 
prise at the mention of the name, arid again the 
stranger repeated it in a harsh strident voice emi- 
nently disagreeable. 

“ Sir Luke Kernshaw ! ” 

“ Yes ! ” said Rebelspear, recoverind from his as- 
tonishment. “ Why do you repeat that name. Do 
you know Sir Luke ? ” 

“ To my cost ! ” 

Rebelspear looked at Julian, and Julian returned 
his gaze with a significant nod in the direction 
of the stranger. 

“Mad! ” 

“No, young gentlemen, I am not mad, although 
I have suffered enough to be so. I could tell you 
strange things about — but no, at present I will say 
nothing, the time is not yet come. I have come to 
see this doctor for my wound ! ” 

“ Your wound ? ” 

Behold ! ” 

This extraordinary creature turned round slowly. 


THE TEAR OF MIRACLE. 


21 


and Rebelspear saw on the back of his head a large 
wound from which flowed the bright scarlet blood 
down his white locks. His professional instmcts at 
once got the better of his curiosity, and without 
asking any more questions he attended to the wants 
of his patient and bound up the cut, which was a 
very nasty one, while Julian, smoking quietly in his 
arm-chair, watched the operation in silence. It was 
a very simple matter, and having bathed the wound 
Rebelspear bound a white band of linen round the 
head of his patient which, in conjunction with his long 
white hair and beard, gave him the appearance of 
one of those venerable prophets who delivered the 
decrees of Heaven to the Jewish kings. Having lost a 
good deal of blood the old man was rather weak, so 
the young doctor made him take a glass of port wine, 
and seating him comfortably in a chair prepared 
to ask him a few questions, being decidedly puzzled 
over the whole affair. 

“ How did you get that cut ? ” he asked, going 
back to his own desk. 

“ I went forth into the highways and into the 
by-ways to deliver the message of Heaven, but 
the daughters of the Gentiles drove over me with 


22 THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 

the wheels of their chariots, and I was sorely 
wounded.” 

“Means he was knocked down by a cab while 
crossing the street,” explained the practical Julian, 
lighting another cigarette. 

The old man turned on him a look full of reproach 
and reproof. 

“ You are one of those who dwell in palaces,” he 
said, raising his harsh voice like a trumpet, “ one of 
the many wrapt in loose pleasures to whom the 
warning is given. I know you, oh, scoffer ! for I 
have beheld you in public places, consorting with 
the vain ones of this earth.” 

“ And I know you,” retorted Julian, with a sneer 
of contempt. “ You are Matthew Malister, that old 
fanatic, who has been put in jail several times for 
making rows in the street.” 

“ Malister the Socialist,” exclaimed Rebelspear, 
who was feeling rather bewildered by the biblical 
phraseology of the old man. “ Oh, I know, the 
Anarchist who addresses meetings in Hyde Park.” 

“ Neither Anarchist nor Socialist,” cried Malister 
with great fervor, “ but a Prophet of Doom, who 
has come from the far East to warn this New Baby- 
lon that Heaven is wearied of her vices and of her 
iniquities.” 


TUE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


23 


“A modern John the Baptist,” scoffed Julian, 
looking at the fanatic. « I told you he was mad, 
Frank. Cracked as the great Bell of Moscow.” 

“ So you say in your blindness, young man,” re- 
turned Malister, raising his hand ; “ but know that, 

! before the dawn of the new century, this great 
city will be humbled to the dust. She will call upon 
, her children, and they will reply not. She will 
weep for those that lie dead in the streets, and will 
refuse to be comforted. The song and jest will be 
silent in her palaces, for the feet of her children go 
downward to the yawning grave, and the kings of 
the earth, the rulers, and princes, will mourn for 
her desolation.” 

“ Oh ! is there going to be a universal war — a 
battle of Armageddon ?” said Rebelspear, with a dis- 
believing smile. “ I’ve heard such a lot about that 
sort of thing. The thousand days of Daniel, the 
opening of the seventh seal, the division of Europe 
into the ten kingdoms of the ten-horned beast ! My 
good man, all that sort of thing is nonsense ; no one 
believes in such rubbish. I don’t wonder you’ve 
been locked up, if that’s the sort of stuff you talk. 
Why, science — ” 

“ Science ! ” interrupted Malister, in a voice of 
thunder, rising to his feet. “ Science can do nothing 


24 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


in the coming trouble. All your learning, all your 
wealth, all your craft, will avail you nothing when 
the dead lie unburied in the streets, and London — 
this mighty city of Nineveh of which you boast — 
shall be one vast desert. Owls shall build their 
nests in the dome of St. Paul’s — solitude will reign 
in the palaces of your kings, and — ” 

“ And the New Zealander will sit on the ruins of 
London Bridge and sketch the ruins of St. Paul’s,” 
said Delicker, with scorn. “ You are a plagiarist, 
my good fellow. Macaulay has been before you.” 

“ Fool ! ” cried the fanatic, fiercely, “ your days 
are numbered ; but a short time and the jest on- 
your lips will give place to a cry of terror. Have 
you not seen the sign which God has set in the 
heavens to warn this generation of the coming 
doom ? ” 

“Oh, the comet!” observed Rebelspear, quickly, 
“ yes, we have all seen the comet, and a very decent 
one it is, too ; but what of that ? There have been 
plenty of comets before now, and plenty of as- 
sertions about their striking the earth ; but as up to 
the present nothing has occurred, I expect we are 
all safe.” 

Malister looked at him in a pitying manner, and 


rilE YEAH OF MIRACLE. 25 

crossing to him with noiseless swiftness, laid his 
long hand on the young doctor’s shoulder. 

“You have helped me in my distress,” he said in 
a softened tone ; “ you have poured oil into my 
wounds and given me wine to drink. Therefore I 
will be a friend to you, and give you your heart’s 
desire.” 

“ I’m afraid that is beyond your powers,” replied 
the doctor, humouring the old man’s weakness ; “ I 
want patients.” 

“ You shall have them m numbers countless as 
the sands of the sea.” 

“ Oh ! ” cried Julian Delicker, rising to his feet, 
“ I’m tired of all this rubbish. If you have finished 
with this lunatic, Frank, perhaps you’ll go and 
dress.” 

“Shortly! shortly!” replied Rebels pear, struck 
with the earnestness of the fanatic ; “ but first I 
want to find out something from Mr. Malister.” 

Julian shrugged his shoulders in a resigned man- 
ner, and resumed his seat, while Malister, still 
standing beside the chair of the young doctor, 
looked steadily at him with fiery eyes, waiting for 
him to speak. 

“ You mentioned the name ot Sir Luke Kernshaw,” 


26 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


said Rebelspear, after a pause, “ and said you knew 
him to your cost. What did you mean by that ? ” 

“ Mean !” echoed Malister, fiercely, “I meant that 
many years ago I had a loving wife who fled with 
Luke Kernshaw from my home, and left me the 
wreck I am now.” 

“ A madman,” sneered Delicker, cruelly. 

“ No, sir,” retorted Malister, quietly, “ not mad. 
I am as sane as you, fool of fortune that you are. I 
am only a deceived man, betrayed by a woman, and 
ruined by a friend, but the way of the evil-doer is 
hard, and after many years I have returned to punish 
Luke Kernshaw, and demand of him my child.” 

“ Your child ! ” cried both young men, in one 
breath. 

“ Yes ; my daughter. When my guilty wife fled 
with her lover, she took with her the child, and 
though I sought far and wide for them both I never 
recovered them. But now — now! the time is at 
hand.” 

The same thought flashed across the mmds of the 
young men, as to whether Laura or Eva were the 
daughter of this strange creature, and Rebelspear, to 
whom the subject was of most importance, was about 
to speak, when Malister, whom the thought of his 


THE TEAR OF MIRACLE. 


27 


wrongs had worked up into a state of great excite- 
ment, burst out into a fierce denunciation of London 
and its inhabitants. 

“ Woe ! woe ! woe ! to the evil city — the evil city 
— the abode of vice and the sink of iniquity. The 
wrath of Heaven will fall upon it, and none shall 
live through the days that are to come. I am an 
outcast, a pariah, a moral leper, yet I have been 
chosen by the Mighty One to sow the seeds of disease 
in every street of this iniquitous place. I am the 
weak that shall confound the strong, and when the 
shadow of death is over the dome of St. Paul’s, then 
will the inhabitants think upon my warnings of the 
coming tempest.” 

“ I believe he’s talking of a plague,” said Delicker, 
quickly, upon which the fanatic turned on him with 
a cruel smile. 

“ You have spoken truly ; I am talking of a plague 
— a plague to which that which desolated mighty 
London in the evil time of the Stuarts will be as 
naught. You, man of pleasure, cannot fiy from it. 
You, man of science, cannot defend yourself from it. 
It will come ! it will come and sweep to the tomb 
all this generation of evil-doers. You laugh me to 
scorn. You say that I am mad — that I lie — that I 


28 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


speak of what cannot be. Doubt me if you like, but 
believe the sign which God hath set in the heavens 
as a warning of what is to come.” 

He tore aside the heavy red curtains that draped 
the windows, and there, in the darkly blue sky, 
flashed the mighty comet which had been hanging 
over Europe for many weeks. Both the young men, 
educated in the latest sciences of the day, were 
sceptical of many things, and scoffed at the idea of 
biblical beliefs, yet, for the moment they quailed 
before this new Isaiah with his terrible prophecies 
of coming doom, the truth of whose mission seemed 
to be supported by the testimony of the heavens 
themselves. 

Even Delicker, mocker of all things as he was, 
felt strangely moved for the first time in his idle, 
egotistical life, but Rebelspear, materialist and man 
of science, who believed nothing without proof, dis- 
missed the speech of Malister as the ravings of an 
over-excited brain, and poured him out another glass 
of wine. 

“ Come, come, my good fellow,” he said, soothing- 
ly, just as if he were petting a fractious child. “You 
are talking sad -nonsense, and if you go on like this 
they will lock you up as insane. Be advised by me. 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


29 


do not go near Sir Luke Kernshaw, and stop these 
incoherent ravings, or you will get into trouble. 
Now that I have done what I can for you, take this 
glass of wine and go as soon as possible.” 

“ You do not believe my warnings,” said Malister, 
looking sadly at the young doctor. “You think 
with others that I am mad.” 

Rebelspear shrugged his shoulders, and smiled 
meaningly. “ My good sir, this is nearly the twen- 
tieth century, and I believe nothing without proof. 
You say a plague is about to devastate London. I 
say such a thing cannot occur — at least, it is highly 
improbable. In the middle ages, when London was 
badly drained, and the inhabitants badly housed, 
paying no attention to the laws of health, such a 
thing was likely, and, of course, took place, but now, 
when everything has been done for the public health 
that science can do, I’m afraid the plague you pro- 
phecy will never come off. As to the comet, we 
have explained away all these things.” 

“ Have you explained away God ? ” 

“ I don’t want to enter into a theological discus- 
sion,” said Rebelspear, rather nettled. “ I have done 
what I can for you ; so please withdraw.” 

Julian nodded approvingly, but Malister still 


30 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


stood quietly by the window in an attitude of utter 
dejection. 

“ I have warned you to fly, and you will not fly ; so 
when the burning sickness comes upon you, then 
you will be lost like all other dwellers in this city. 
Yet, young man, I can see you have a kind heart to 
assist the weak and suffering, so I will save you in 
spite of yourself. Gold I have none to repay your 
aid, but I will give you a more valuable reward. I 
will bestow on you life, and when all around you 
are falling under the scourge of God, you will walk 
unharmed through the terrors that surround you.” 

“ Mere ravings,” muttered Julian with a yawn. 

“ I will tell you both my story,” said Malister, 
without taking any notice of the interruption, “ and 
you can judge for yourself as to whether I speak 
truth or not.” 

Julian made a gesture of impatience, but Rebel- 
-.pear hesitated. He was greatly puzzled by the 
quiet demeanour of one whom he could not but re- 
gard as a madman, and was anxious to hear the jus- 
tiflcation he proposed to make of his eccentric con- 
duct. For some time past, this man had been a 
prominent figure in London police courts, owing to 
the crowds he attracted in the streets, while preach- 


THE TEAR OF MIRACLE. 


31 


ing his terrible warning of the coming plague, and 
Rebelspear, now that the fanatic was willing to con- 
fide in him, felt very desirous to discover if there 
was any method in his madness. 

“You can go, Julian,” he said at last, making up 
his mind. “ I will follow you later on, but mean- 
while I want to hear what Mr. Malister has to say 
for himself.” 

“ It’s only half -past ten,” said Julian, looking at 
his watch, and comparing it with the clock, “ and if 
we arrive at Kernshaw’s at twelve, it will be time 
enough, so I also will wait and hear this story.” 

“ You can if you like,” observed Malister, slowly, 
“ but you will not believe what I say.” 

“ Very probably not, but I’m fond of romance, and 
your ‘ Thousand and Second Yight ’ will no doubt 
be amusing.” 

The fanatic cast a look of profound contempt on 
this frivolous speaker, and still standing by the 
window with the pale phosphorescent gleam of the 
comet visible behind him, told his story to those 
two young men, who both listened with great at- 
tention to his strange narrative, but with widely 
different feelings, the contempt Julian evinced for 
this latter day prophet not being shared by Dr. 
Rebelspear. 


82 


rilE TEAR OF MIRACLE, 


The warning which had been given to thousands, 
and which had many times cost Malister his liberty, 
was now being given to them, but believe, or dis- 
believe, as they would, neither of them, occupied as 
they were, could help being fascinated by the bizarre 
story told so dramatically by one who called him- 
self the Prophet of Doom. 


THE YEAH OF MIRACLE. 


CHAPTER III. 

THE THOUSAND AND SECOND NIGHT. 

“What is man but a vaiu shadow, that vanisheth 
when the sun of prosperity ceaseth to shine.” In 
me, O my friends, you behold an illustration of this 
saying ! I am now old and frail, but I was once as 
young and comely as you are. In the days of my 
youth I rejoiced greatly, doing that which seemed 
good in mine eyes, nor dreamed that my life would 
be otherwise than j)leasant and prosperous. 
Wealth, health, and friends were mine, and I took 
unto myself a fair wife, whom I cherished tenderly ; 
therefore in the pride of my heart I laughed to scorn 
the thought of trouble, but God in Ilis mysterious 
wisdom chose me as His messenger, to declare his 
commands to this generation of evil-doers, and led 
me through many trials to the understanding of 
the mission He desired me to fulfil. Up to the age 

01 forty years my life was gay and careless, with 
3 


34 


THE TEAR OF MIRACLE. 


no thought of the morrow, or regret for the past ; 
but when the appointed time came, I was bereft of all 
I held most dear, and exiled by the fiat of Heaven to 
distant lands. I there prepared myself in solitude 
for the part I had to play in this last drama of the 
nineteenth century. 

This Luke Kernshaw of whom you speak was my 
trusted friend, and being an old schoolfellow we 
had been hound by the closest ties of amity for 
many years. My wife was fair, and we had one 
child, a little daughter, who was the delight of my 
heart ; so, with all these joys I was perfectly happy. 
Friend, wife, and child, what more could I desire 
from Heaven ? but, alas ! in my enjoyment of the 
blessings of God I forgot the Giver, nor thanked 
Him for His fatherly care, therefore, was I bitterly 
punished. Like Job I was blessed above all my 
fellow-creatures, and like Job I was in a single day 
abased to the dust by misfortune. “The heart 
knoweth its own bitterness,” saith the preacher, 
and well did I understand the saying when I found 
myself deprived of friend, wife, and child by the 
justice of Heaven. 

In those days I travelled a great deal and often 
went about alone, as my wife was delicate, and did 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


35 


not care about moving from her quiet home. During 
my frequent absence, Kernshaw was a constant 
visitor to my house and, blind fool that I was, I 
encouraged his visits, never for a moment dreaming 
of the base purpose which underlay his professions of 
ardent friendship. At last the blow fell — fell when 
I least expected it, and I returned from the north of 
Scotland to find that my treacherous friend and 
guilty wife had fled to the Continent, taking with 
them my only child. Filled with wrath and the 
fierce indignation of a wronged man, I pursued them 
at once, but so successfully had they arranged their 
flight that I was unable to discover their hiding-place. 
Misfortune never comes singly, however, and after 
experiencing the full bitterness of this terrible calam- 
ity another blow fell. Owing to various causes con- 
nected with commercial depression and the stoppage 
of a bank, I lost all my fortune, and thus found my- 
self deprived of all that made life worth living. 

All these misfortunes told so severely on my 
health that I became seriously ill with brain fever, 
and for many weeks lay sick unto death in an out- 
of-the-way village in France. I wanted to die, for I 
had nothing left me for which to desire life, but God 
in His mscrutable mercy preserved my life and my 


36 the year of miracle. 

reason, and from that bed of sickness I arose to 
move onward in the appointed path, the end of 
which T am now nearing. 

On recovering my health I learned that my guilty 
wife had died of an attack of typhoid fever, and 
also that a distant relative had died and left me a 
large sum of money. I at once went in search of my 
former friend and my child, but was unable to find 
traces of either, so in despair I abandoned the hope 
of punishing the one or recovering the other. 
The world was now hateful to me, owing to my 
misfortune, so, inspired by Heaven, I departed to 
the East in search of peace if not happiness, and it 
was there, amid the melancholy deserts of Arabia, 
God revealed to me my destiny and sent me forth to 
this evil world as a Prophet of Doom to foretell 
the calamities which are now about to fall upon 
the generation who have forgotten Him. 

After staying some time in Alexandria I went on 
to Cairo and remained many weeks in that ancient 
city of the Mamelukes, passing every day in the 
most agreeable manner, in visiting the Pyramids, 
the antiquities of the city, the mosques, and various 
other objects of interest. I also went up the Nile 
and saw those splendid rums of old Egypt which 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


37 


rise amid the desert sands under the hot glow of 
the eastern sun. While sleeping in one of these 
Pharaohonic temples, I had a dream which I had 
no doubt came from Heaven, for in it I was bidden 
to go to the South and there search for the means 
by which God intended to punish the luxury and 
evil living of these days. 

Acting under an uncontrollable impulse I took 
ship at Alexandria and sailed down the Red Sea 
to the port of Jiddah, intending from thence to go 
to Mecca, the Holy City of the Turkish world. 
Having a considerable amount of money at my 
command I hired many camels and attendants, 
and, in spite of the warnings of the British Consul 
at Jiddah, began my journey to the tomb of Ma- 
homet. For many days we journeyed through the 
dreary wastes of sand which environed the Ploly 
City, and at last, through the treachery or mistake 
of the guide, we lost our way. Looking upon this 
as a judgment on them for taking an infidel to the 
tomb of their prophet, my attendants would have 
killed me, but being mounted on a swift drome- 
dary I was fortunate enough to escape, and fied for 
many hours from these bloodthirsty fanatics. In 
spite, however, of my swift dromedary, I should 


38 the year of miracle. 

doubtless have been overtaken, when Heaven inter- 
posed and all niy pursuers were overwhelmed in a 
simoom. In company with all the rest I had flung 
myself on the ground until the terror of this sand- 
storm was passed, but when I arose to my feet, I 
saw no trace of men or camels, all being buried 
beneath mountains of yellow sand. Even my drome- 
dary had shared the same fate ; so here was I in the 
lonely desert without a guide, a camel, a drop of water, 
or a morsel of bread ; with nothing but my life and 
the protection of God. 

At first I gave way to despair; for, desire death 
as much as possible, it is nevertheless terrible to 
find oneself in such a position, but some inward 
voice advised me to be of good cheer, and I set for- 
ward to cross the desert in the hope of discovering 
some Bedouin encampment, and thus preserving 
my life. Of my sufferings I need not tell you, but 
you can guess how terrible they were in my then 
state of destitution ; and the sun rose, the sun set, 
the day dawned, the night fell with still that illimi- 
table waste of sand around me, and the burning sun 
overhead. 

Towards the close of the second day I could no 
longer proceed, being weak with hunger and parched 


rilE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


39 


with thirst, so I lay down on the hot sand to die 
just at the hour of sunset. Suddenly, in front of 
the blood- red disc, which was sinking behind the 
level edge of the desert, I saw the silhouette of 
a vast city. Towers, domes, minarets, walls, all 
loomed blackly against the crimson sky, and in spite 
of my fancy that it was a mirage or a spectral illu- 
sion created by my want of food, it certainly looked 
substantial enough. The. sight put new strength 
into me, as I thought I was now saved ; so with 
great difficulty I managed to struggle on until I ar- 
rived under the frowning walls which protected this 
city of the desert from the encroaching sands. The 
enormous gates which were set in a horse- shoe 
archway were wide open, and by these I sank down, 
calling hoarsely for help. No one replied, and al- 
though I cried again and again in a weak voice, I 
heard no answering cry, so I came to the conclusion 
that the city was deserted. Suddenly I heard the 
sound of running water, and dragging myself along 
to the musical gurgle, I found a clear stream of 
water spouting from the wall into a shallow trough. 
Oh ! the ecstasy of that long draught of cold clear 
water — after all my torments it was like the gift of 
a new life. 


40 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


Thus refreshed, I went slowly along the narrow 
streets to see whether I could meet with a human 
being ; for the horror of this silent city struck 
me with a sense of terror. The moon was now 
shining palely in the dark sky, and under her 
silver beams I saw that the massive buildings on 
each side were purely oriental in their architecture, 
with closely latticed windows bulging from their 
ornate fronts, and massively barred doors set in 
trefoliated arches. All at once I shrieked with terror ; 
for, on emerging into a large square, I stumbled over 
the corpse of a man ; then I saw another and an- 
other, and as I took in the whole scene, beheld this 
immense space covered with the dead bodies of men 
like some terrible battle-field. On recovering from 
my first terror, I examined the bodies, but could see 
no signs of blood or wounds, only a frozen look of 
abject dread stamped upon each face. The spectacle 
of this graveyard was awe-inspiring in the extreme, 
and I could not guess the reason of this sudden 
mortality among the inhabitants of this lonely 
city. No sound except the musical splashing of 
fountains, no light save the serene splendour of the 
moon, and amid the stately palaces, which environed 
the square, nothing but this army of the dead, sud- 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 41 

denly stricken by the hand of God by some terrible 
plague. 

As I stood there frozen with terror, and wondering 
what I was to do, and whether I was under the in- 
fluence of some frightful nightmare, I heard the 
sound of a human voice, loud and shrill, raised in a 
measured chant. Nearer and nearer it came, until 
at length I saw a tall man m a floating white 
robe, step across the innumerable dead bodies and 
come straight to where I was standing. He was 
an old, old man, something like what I am now in 
appearance, and with uplifted hands he recited some 
melancholy verses from the Koran in sonorous Arabic. 

When he beheld me he stopped ; and, seeing from 
my dress that I was a European, addressed me in 
French. As he did so, I laughed aloud, so grotesque 
seemed the contrast of the gay Gallic tongue with 
the terrible mysticism of the place where we were 
standing. 

« Giaour, why dost thou laugh ? ” said the old man 
in tones of reproof ; “ rather weep at the sight of 
this desolation amid which thou flndest thyself.” 

“ I laughed because you spoke French,” I replied, 
after a pause. “ This is like a city of the Thousand 
and One Nights, and to hear the French tongue 


42 the year of miracle. 

in this hideous solitude seems ludicrous in the 
extreme.” 

“ I have been to the Mother of Cities, even Stam- 
boul, O Giaour, and there I learned the wisdom of 
the Franks. But tell me, O wanderer, wherefore 
art thou here in this city accursed of Allah ? ” 

Upon being asked this question, I told the old 
dervish, all my trials and adventures, upon which, 
after some thought, he motioned to me to follow 
him, and leading me to a house on one side of the 
square, set wine and food before me. While I was 
eating he said nothing, but eyed me keenly, and 
when I had finished, he fiung open the leaves of a 
copy of the Koran, which stood near him on a read- 
ing desk, and read the first verse upon which his eye 
alighted. It seemed to satisfy him, for he seated 
himself beside me and told me the reason of the 
strange sights I had seen in this city of the dead. 

“ Wonderful are the ways of Allah, O Giaour,” 
he said, solemnly stroking his beard ; “ for know 
that I behold in you a messenger of doom to the 
infidel, as I have been to the faithful. The All 
Merciful hath chosen thee to receive from my lips 
the warning which thou shall deliver to the children 
of Gehenna, who dwell in the West, and, should they 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


43 


laugh thy words to scorn, upon them will fall the 
same doom which hath descended upon these people 
of this proud city.” 

After this strange exordium, the meaning of which 
I could not understand, he proceeded with his tale. 

“ Know, O Giaour, that this is the famous city of 
Nar which has been shut out by the desert sands 
for all time from the prying eyes of the restless 
West. The people who dwelt herein were proud 
and haughty, and although they received the faith 
of the one true God from the mouth of Mahomet him- 
self, yet did they fall away m the lust of their hearts. 
I was one of the children of this city, and having 
become a Dervish, wandered away from my birth- 
place to the Mother of Cities, where dwells the Pad- 
ishaw. There I consumed my days and nights in 
learning, and I saw the exceeding wickedness of men. 
Then, moved by Allah, I returned to this city and 
called upon my fellow-townsmen to return to their 
former single ways lest the doom of Allah should 
fall upon them. They laughed me to scorn and 
mocked my words, therefore I fulfilled my mission. 

“ This bottle,” continued the dervish, drawing a 
phial from the folds of his robe, “ contains the germs 
of a deadly plague called the Burning Sickness, and 


44 


THE YEAB OF MIRACLE. 


if sprinkled in the street will spread through the 
whole city, slaying all and sparing none. Where I 
obtained it I need not tell thee ; but fulfilling the will 
of Allah I broke one of these phials in yonder square, 
and so the plague swept through the city of Nar, 
sparing none. Man, woman, and child, all perished 
as thou seest, and I alone am left alive to tell thee 
the tale, O, Heaven-guided one ! and to deliver to thee 
this phial, so that thou mayst fulfil the will of Allah 
in the West.” 

I was much astonished at this strange recital and 
demanded of the dervish what I was to do, and how 
I was to return to civilisation. 

“ Go ! ” he said, giving me the phial, “ and at the 
western gate thou wilt find a camel and a guide who 
will lead thee back to Jiddah, whence thou can’st 
return to thine own land. When there, call upon 
thy fellowmen to repent, and if they scorn thee break 
that phial in the street of the most populous city. 
Then will Azrael draw his sword, nor sheath it until 
all are destroyed.” 

After saying these words he bade me sleep, which 
I did soundly, being worn out with fatigue ; but at 
early dawn the dervish woke me, and leading me 
himself to the western gate placed me on the camel ; 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


45 


then bidding me good-bye, went back into the city. 
Just outside the gate I found the guide mounted on 
another camel, and this man, who spoke no word 
during the journey, guided me to Jiddah. On arriv- 
ing at the port my guide disappeared, and I sailed 
by the first ship to Alexandria. Unfortunately, how- 
ever, I was wrecked by a storm and was detained 
for many years a prisoner by the Bedouins, but at 
last I managed to escape and came straight to Lon- 
don to preach the Word of the Lord. I have been 
placed in prison, I have been scorned, I have been 
maltreated, but I still lift iip my voice to call this 
mighty city to repentance. They will not hearken 
to my words, the appointed time is at hand, and 
within three days will the Burning Sickness rage 
among them until none will be left alive, like the 
citizens of the Arabian Nar. 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE FANTASY OF A MADMAN’s BRAIN. 

This strange narrative having thus come to an 
end, there was silence in the room, for a few minutes, 
each of the three men present being occupied with 
his own thoughts. Mails ter was dreaming of his 
past troubles and his terrible mission, but the same 
idea was in the minds of Rebelspear and his friend. 
The old man was mad, quite mad, for surely such a 
bizarre tale could have emanated from nowhere but 
the fantastic brain of an insane person. It was a re- 
miniscence of the “ Arabian Nights,” filled with the 
grim superstitions of the East,- and that an educated 
man, for so Malister appeared to be, should tell such a 
tissue of grotesque horrors as his actual experience, 
proved that his brain was not properly balanced. 
Such a monstrous story might have been believed in 
the day of mediae valism, when the world was supposed 
to be full of such unknown horrors ; but to give 

46 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 47 

these fantasies an actual existence at the end of the 
nineteenth century was too absurd, and both the 
young doctor and Julian felt it to be so. The latter 
was the first to break the silence which followed 
the narration of this Thousand and Second Night, 
and burst out into a hearty laugh. 

“ I like fairy stories,” he said, mockingly, “ and 
yours is one of the best I have heard.” 

“ You don’t believe me, sir ? ” 

“Hardly. I’ve travelled myself and know the 
romances of voyagers. I suspect you have met 
Sultana Scheherazade, my friend, and she has related 
to you a story.” 

“ You are like the inhabitants of the city of Nar,” 
said the fanatic, sternly. “ You mock at my words 
and look upon my warning as a capital jest, but 
beware, the time is at hand, and before the end of 
the present week you will fall a victim to the Burn- 
ing Sickness.” 

“ Well, I was wishing for a plague, Frank,” 
observed Julian, turning to his friend ; “ and now 
it is likely that we are going to have one. Pooh ! 
who ever heard such rubbish. A plague in Lon- 
don ! A fairy tale from the deserts of Arabia ! A 
bogey to frighten women. My good Mr. Malister, 


48 THE YEAH OF MIRACLE. 

Socialist and Romancer, you had better go at once 
to Colney Hatch.” 

« Scoff on, O man of pleasure ! ” said Malister, 
taking up his hat. “ Another week will prove the 
truth of my words, and when you die in the streets 
by the Burning Sickness, you will remember my 
warning.” 

Julian shrugged his shoulders with infinite con- 
tempt and turned away, but Dr. Rebelspear, who 
had hitherto kept silence, now suddenly addressed 
himself to the old man. 

“ I am a man of science,” he said, slowly, “ and I 
believe nothing without proof. You say this 
dervish gave you a phial containing the plague you 
speak of. May I see that phial ? ” 

“ Behold ! nor doubt the truth of my words.” 

He drew a slender bottle of cut crystal from his 
pocket and presented it to Rebelspear, who received 
it with lively curiosity. The phial was about as 
long and thick as the middle finger of a man’s hand 
and contained some jet black fluid which looked 
like ink. There was no stopper, as the glass was 
perfect at both ends, and the only way to get at the 
contents would be by breaking it, as the dervish 
described. Rebelspear held it in his right hand 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


49 


under the bright glare of the electric light, and the 
crystal cut in many facets flashed and glittered like 
diamonds, which intensifled the sombre look of the 
thin, black line, within which, accordmg to Malister, 
was the deadly liquid containing the germs of the 
plague. 

So with this little bottle you purpose to de- 
populate London,” said Rebelspear, disbelievingly 
balancing it in his hand. 

“You, as a doctor, should know how germs 
multiply,” replied Malister quietly. “ I break that 
in the street and the infusoria within will come in 
contact with the outer air. When that takes place 
there is no hope for this evil city ; for every atom 
will increase a thousand- fold, and the wind will 
bear the seeds of death into every street, into every 
house, into every room. The air will be heavy with 
the breath of the plague — the strong man shall fall 
prone in the midst of his toil — the orgy of the 
voluptuary will end in death — no more shall be 
heard the sounds of labour or pleasure, and grass 
will grow in the populous streets of this great city. 
The living will have no time to bury the dead, and 
they will lie at the doors of their palaces with no 

one to heed them. Woe ! woe ! to this mighty city 
4 


50 


THE YEAH OF MIRACLE. 


which hath wearied Heaven by her crimes, for the 
end is at hand and the pride of the earth will be 
humbled to the dust.” 

Rebelspear listened to this biblical address with 
an unmoved countenance, and handed back the phial 
to Malister, who replaced it in his pocket. 

“ I don’t believe that bottle contains all the woes 
you have described, ” he said, coolly ; “ but let us 
grant, for the sake of argument, that it does. If so, 
do you think it a wise or a pious thing to sow the 
seeds of a terrible, disease in the midst of your fellow- 
countrymen ? ” 

“ They will not listen to my voice, ” cried Malister, 
with fervid fierceness. “ I have called to the sheep, 
but they will not obey the voice of the shepherd. 
All the vices of the earth are to be found in this 
wealthy city of palaces. They are drunken with 
their wealth, and filled with pride, when thinking of 
their strength. Three months have I preached in 
the public places, and ever I have been railed and 
scoffed at. Now, the measure of their iniquities is 
full and runneth over, for the Most High is wearied 
of their sin and perverseness. Three more days will 
I call upon them to repent, and if they do not, I 
must obey the words of Heaven, and bring upon 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


51 


this generation of mockers the doom which they 
have called upon themselves. ” 

“ By the way,” said Julian, suddenly interrupt- 
ing this long address, “ if this plague kills everyone 
how did your dervish and guide escape ? ” 

Malister drew forth from another pocket a phial 
similar to the first, but it contained no black liquid, 
and, in fact, looked as if it contained nothing at 
all ; and, moreover instead of being sealed at both 
ends it had a glass stopper, which could easily be 
unscrewed when the contents were required to be 
made use of. 

“ This is the cure for the Burning Sickness,” he 
said, giving the phial to Rebelspear ; “ it contains a 
liquid clear as crystal. Three drops in a tumbler of 
water will change it to a liquid the colour of blood. 
Whomsoever drinks it will be cured at once. The 
dervish and my guide both were seized by the plague, 
but were cured as I have told you, and the phial was 
given to me so as to preserve me through the horrors 
that are to come. ” 

Rebelspear was as incredulous over this second 
phial as he was over the first, and gave it back to 
Malister with a contemptuous smile, but, to his sur- 
prise, the old man refused to receive it. • 


52 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


“ No ! ” he said, waving his thin hand ; “you 
have been kind to me, and I promised to aid you. 
No patients have you now, but in a week you will 
have many. The contents of that phial will cure 
them, and every drop is worth its weight in gold. 
Take it, sir, and when you find my words come true 
forget not that a kind action ever brings its reward.” 

“ But what about yourself, Mr. Malister ? If this 
plague does come you will fall a victim to it.” 

“ I care not,” replied the fanatic gloomily ; “ I 
have nothing left to live for. When I break this 
phial in the streets and sow the germs of the plague 
my mission will be ended. ” 

“ But your daughter ! ” 

“ Ah, my daughter ! True ; I had forgotten her, 
but perchance she is dead. I will seek out Sir Luke 
Kernshaw and demand of him my child.” 

“ Sir Luke has two daughters,” said Julian, 
quickly. 

“ Is that so ? Then he will lose both. He will 
suffer the agonies he inflicted upon me. His children 
will die of the Burning Sickness, and he himself will 
go down to the grave, but not before I come face to 
face with him once more.” 

“ His daughters shall not die if this antidote is 


THE YEAR OF MIBACLE. 


53 


any good,” said Rebelspear, bluntly, putting his 
phial m his desk, “ for I am in love with one of 
them.” 

“ She will bring you woe, oh foolish man ! As 
the father is so shall be the child, and if you wed 
with a daughter of that wicked man you will be 
punished. But there ! there ! marry if you will, for 
in a few weeks you will all be dead in the streets of 
your city.” 

“ If you think Sir Luke Kernshaw has treated you 
badly, why don’t you go and see hun at once ? ” 
asked the young doctor with a yawn. 

“No? ’’cried Malister, putting on his hat; “I 
will not see him ! I will not speak to him until the 
doom falls upon him and his. When his two fair 
daughters lie dead at his feet; when he himself 
stands on the threshold of the grave, then will I 
appear and show him this marred visage, this bent 
form, to recall to him the man he so deeply wronged. 
And now, doctor, I will take my leave. You have 
poured oil into my wounds, you have given me wine 
to drink, and in the time of coming trouble you will 
find that my gratitude will save you from death. 
For three days will I call aloud in the public streets 
and summon all to repentance. If none reply or 


54 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


hearken to my voice, then will this great city, the 
pride of the earth, he levelled to the dust. Spiders 
will weave their webs in her palaces, and the nations 
will weep far off with great wailing at her fall.” 

He had thrown open the door during this speech, 
and the inrnnning draught fluttered his loose gar- 
ments as he faded out of the room like some un- 
happy ghost. Even after he had vanished the two 
young men could hear his harsh voice raised in 
fierce denunciations, and then they heard the front 
door close sharply as he went out into the silent 
night on his mission of doom. 

“ Oh, dear, dear ! ” yawned Julian, stretching him- 
self, “ who ever heard such a lot of rubbish ? Why 
don’t they shut up that old lunatic? If he goes 
about like this he’ll frighten all the old women into 
fits.” 

“ I don’t believe his Arabian story, certainly,” said 
Rebelspear, slowly, “ but he might have some germs 
in that bottle likely to cause trouble. I almost wish 
I had taken it of him.” 

“ Nonsense, my dear Frank. The man’s as mad 
as a hatter, and has infected you with his insanity. 
A plague, indeed ! who ever heard of such rubbish ? ” 

“ Well, if the plague does come, I’ve got the cure ! ” 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


55 


“No doubt, the cure and the germs are much 
about a muchness. If this Burning Sickness does 
turn up I’ll come to you to be cured, Frank ; but I 
can’t congratulate you on your first patient.” 

“ Oh, something is better than nothing.” 

“No doubt, and as you have at last really made a 
start, just jump into your evening dress and come 
to Kernshaw’s at once to tell Eva Kernshaw about 
your first success.” 

“ If I told her all it would rather frighten her,” 
said Rebelspear, with a laugh, as he left the room. 

“Very likely it would,” muttered Delicker, 
when he was left alone ; “ that old madman’s story 
was as weird as any of Poe’s fancies. I don’t care 
about such horrors. I don’t believe his ‘ Arabian 
Nights,’ but that story about Kernshaw might be 
true, and it is that which has sent him mad. Per- 
haps one of those two girls is his daughter. Humph ! 
I shouldn’t wonder. They’re not a bit alike.” 

He put the question to Rebelspear when they 
were driving along in a hansom towards Park Lane, 
and the young doctor agreed that such a thing might 
not be impossible. 

“ At all events,” he said, after a pause, “ Kernshaw 
was not married when he went off with Malister’s 


66 the yeah of miracle. 

wife, so the old man’s child will be the elder of the 
two.” 

“ And which is the elder — Eva or Laura ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” replied Rebelspear, rather puz- 
zled, “ but now I have the curiosity to find out.” 

“ If it’s Eva ! ” said Julian, laughing, “ you can 
marry her, and she’ll bring you her father’s plague 
and many patients as her dowry.” 

“ And suppose it is Laura ? ” 

“ Oh, she’s a plague in herself,” was the quick re- 
joinder, “ a perfect vixen that girl, whom I should 
not like to offend. I think she is very beautiful, 
but I doubt her temper. No, no, my boy, whichever 
of the two is Malister’s daughter you marry Eva — 
that is, if Laura will let you.” 

“ Let me ! why, how can she stop me ? ” 

“ I don’t know, but she’ll try, my dear Frank. If 
this Burning Sickness does come and kill off Laura 
Kernshaw it will be a good thing for you.” 

“ And why ? ” 

“Because she’s Lady Macbeth and Messalina 
rolled into one.” 


CHAPTER V. 


DAY AI^D NIGHT. 

Sir Luke Kernshaw was not a particularly wicked 
man, and his sins proceeded rather from the curse 
of idleness than from a bad disposition. Never was 
the adage that “ Satan finds some mischief still for 
idle hands to do,” better exemplified than in his 
case, as, having had plenty of money all his life, and 
no occupation, he amused himself by obeying every 
trivial impulse of his mind. He gambled in a moder- 
ate fashion, and he did not lay himself out to be of 
service to his fellow-men, but although he held no 
very exalted idea of female virtue, until he eloped 
with the wife of his dearest friend, he had not been 
guilty of any social crime, and passed among his set 
as a very decent sort of fellow. 

When Malister was married, Kernshaw had acted 
as best man to the groom, and even then had been 
struck with the charms of the bride. Wishing, 
however, to remain faithful to his old schoolfellow, 

67 


58 


TUE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


he had assiduously kept away from the house, hut 
having been persuaded by Malister to stay with him 
for a time in the country, he had yielded without 
further struggle to what he regarded as his fate. 
The end came in due course, and the guilty pair fled 
to the Continent, but not for long did they enjoy 
their unhallowed felicity, for while waiting for the 
divorce they thought Malister would obtain, the un- 
happy woman died of typhoid fever, and Kernshaw 
was left alone with her child. True, however, to 
the memory of the woman whom he had ruined, he 
looked after the little girl, and when he returned to 
England a year later, she was regarded by the friends 
of the baronet as his own child. This idea Kern- 
shaw did not deny, and when he married and a 
daughter was born to him, both children were 
brought up as his offspring with the utmost impar- 
tiality. 

Malister had of course disappeared to the East, 
where he remained among the Bedouins for twenty 
years, and during this interval Lady Kernshaw died, 
leaving her daughter to be reared with the child of 
the woman whom her husband had loved and ruined. 
Kow that the unhappy Malister, frenzied by the re- 
collection of his wrongs, and armed with a terrible 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


59 


means of revenge, had returned to London, Sir Luke 
Kernshaw was living at his house in Park Lane 
with his two daughters, Laura and Eva, both of 
whom were much admired in London society. 

Laura was tall, dark, and majestic, with the im- 
perious mien of a queen, and a fiery disposition kept 
well under control by her strong nature, while Eva 
was a slender, delicate girl, with golden hair, and a 
somewhat shrinking manner, who differed in every 
way from her Cleopatra-like sister. A celebrated 
painter had taken them as models for a picture, 
which he called “ Day and Night,” which fancy tak- 
ing the ear of society, the two sisters were known 
to everyone by these titles, and certainly Laura 
represented dark-browed Night as admirably as 
her timid, golden-haired sister did Day. 

Sir Luke was very fond of them both, and as the 
old scandal of his youth had long since died away, 
no one for a moment dreamed that one of the sisters 
so-called was not his child, and so like were they in 
many respects that they were generally taken for 
twins . Who was the elder no person ever discovered, 
and the girls finding that such a thing piqued the 
curiosity of their friends always laughingly declined 
to tell their ages, although they themselves did not 


60 


JBE YEAB OF MIRACLE. 


know there was any reason that they should keep 
them secret. Kernshaw, however, was not ill-pleased 
at this innocent mystification, as he was so fond of 
the child of his old mistress that he did not want her 
taken away from him, and he dreaded lest Malister 
should return to London again and claim his 
daughter. 

Twenty years, however, had passed away without 
such a claim being made, and Sir Luke was quite 
satisfied that the old folly was dead and forgotten, 
when he was startled to see the name of Mathew 
Malister appear frequently in the papers as a dis- 
turber of the public peace. At once he remembered 
his old schoolfellow, and obtaining a glimpse of this 
new prophet, when he was holding a meeting in 
Hyde Park, he recognised the man he had wronged, 
in spite of the change in his appearance effected by 
the lapse of years. Every day he expected to see 
Malister appear and claim his child, hut day after 
day passed and there was no appearance of his 
former friend, so Kernshaw again breathed freely, 
as seeing that the papers declared the fanatic to he 
a madman, he thought that he had forgotten all 
about his lost child. Still, to make things more 
secure, he determined to take his daughters to the 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


61 


Continent until Malister should disappear, or be 
shut up in some asylum as a madman, and this ball 
to which Dr. Rebelspear and Delicker were com- 
ing, was given as a farewell to London society by 
the hospitable baronet. 

It was twelve o’clock when the young men 
arrived at the house in Park Lane, and the ball was 
in full swing. The large dancing-room was lined 
with people, and over the polished floor glided the 
dancers to the sensuous strains of the last new 
valse “ 11 y’etait un fois.” Many-coloured flowers 
decorated the walls, and under the steady gleam of 
the electric light moved the brilliant throng of 
guests, laughing and jesting as their feet moved in 
rhythmical measure to the steady beat of the 
music. Remembering what the old man had said, 
Rebelspear, standing at the door of the room under 
an arch of flowers, thought that the scene looked 
like some weird dance of death, in which grisly 
skeletons, invisible to the eye, mingled with the 
giddy crowd. The glare of the light, the heavy 
perfumes of the flowers, the swaying forms of the 
dancers, all intoxicated him as with the fumes of 
opium smoke, and he almost expected to see letters 
of Are flash out from the flower-wreathed walls. 


62 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


warning the heedless throng of the coming doom, as 
happened in old time at the feast of Belshazzar. 

Sir Luke, with whom the young man was not a 
favourite, received him as coldly as hospitality would 
permit, but Julian Delicker, the wealthy young man, 
received a much warmer welcome, and turning 
away with a conventionally smiling face to hide his 
aching heart, Rebelspear could not help comparing 
the difference of their receptions. 

“ Money can do anything,” he muttered, bitterly, 
pushing his way through the crowd in search of 
Eva ; “ it can even make that old baronet kindly.” 

Eva was standing in the centre of half-a-dozen 
gentlemen, who were talking to her about the last 
frivolous event of the day, but when she saw Rebel- 
spear she flushed quickly with pleasure. 

“Good-evening,” she said with well-bred com- 
posure, conscious that the eyes of the world were 
on them. “ Have you been here long ? ” 

“ I have only just arrived, but I am not too late 
for a dance ? ” * 

Eva pursed up her rosy lips, and looked at her 
programme with a roguish laugh. 

“I’m afraid you are. Dr. Rebelspear. My pro 
gramme is filled up twice over.” 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


63 


“ That is the penalty of beauty, Miss Kernshaw,” 
said one of the gentlemen, politely. 

“ A very pleasant penalty, at all events,” returned 
the girl laughing. “ Well, Dr. Rebelspear, you may 
look at my programme while I am engaged in danc- 
ing,” and giving her card to Rebelspear she moved 
off with a gay nod on the arm of the gentleman who 
had paid her the compliment. 

Frank looked at the programme without delay, and 
saw with delight that his initials were placed against 
several dances by the hand of Eva herself ; so being 
thus certain of a pleasant evening, he lounged con- 
tentedly against the wall until Miss Kernshaw 
returned. 

“ Ah, here is Dr. Rebelspear ! ” 

“ And in a brown study.” 

These two remarks came from Julian Delicker, 
and from a lady, who was leaning on his arm. A 
handsome woman she was, with boldly cut features, 
masses of dark hair, and an imperious mien which 
admirably suited her regal beauty. This was Night, 
the sister of Eva, and it was easy to see that she 
was in love with the young doctor, for every flash of 
her dark eyes betrayed the secret of her heart. 
Those eyes, that could look cruelly enough at times, 


64 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


were now bent upon Frank with a languid, melting 
gaze that made him flush with annoyance as he saw 
the signiflcant smile on the face of his friend. 

“ How do you do, Miss Kernshaw?” he said quick- 
ly. “ I am just waiting for your sister, who has 
promised me the next dance. I hope I am to have 
the same favour from yourself.” 

“ I am sorry. Dr. Rebelspear, but I am engaged,” 
replied Laura, coldly, with a flash of jealousy in her 
eyes, and walked quickly away with Julian. 

Rebelspear stood fixed with astonishment at this 
singular conduct, not knowing what he had done to 
deserve such severe treatment. He was a clever 
fellow in many respects, this young doctor, but he 
was remarkably stupid with regard to the fair sex; 
otherwise he would certainly have known at once 
that Laura Kernshaw’s refusal was dictated by 
jealousy. Not being versed in feminine subtility, 
however, he was puzzling on the matter when he 
heard the voice of Eva, and on turning round, beheld 
her by his side, waiting for him to give her his arm. 

“I don’t want to dance at present,” she said 
quickly, slipping her hand within his arm. “ Come 
to the conservatory ; I have something to ask you.” 

Rebelspear was only too delighted to thus have a 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


65 


chance of a quiet talk, and they soon found a secluded 
nook behind a screen of ferns, where they could see 
without being seen. 

“ O, Frank,” began Eva, hurriedly, “ papa is so 
angry with me — so terribly angry ! ” 

“ And I am the cause, I suppose ? ” 

“ Yes ; partly. I was looking at the ring you gave 
me, and Laura saw me doing so. She asked me 
whose it was, and, very foolishly, I mentioned your 
name, upon which she went to papa and told him 
all sorts of dreadful things.” 

“ But why should your sister he my enemy ? I 
have never harmed her.” 

“ She is not your enemy, Frank, but she is mine, 
because you love me.” 

“ Really ? ” said the young doctor, rather embar- 
rassed. “ I’m afraid you are making a mistake, Eva. 
Laura is one of the belles of the season, and can look 
higher than a poor doctor like me. Besides, 1 love 
no one hut you.” 

“ Yes, I know that, and so does papa. lie wants 
me to give you up ; hut I’ll never do it, Frank ! I 
will wait till you are earning a good income, and then 
we will marry.” 

“ I hope that day is not far off,” said Rebelspear, 


66 


THE TEAR OF MIRACLE. 


cheerfully ; “ at all events, I have made a good start. 
I had my first patient to-night.” 

“ Oh, Frank ! ” 

“ He was not a very opulent patient. Still he was 
better than nothing, my dear. Besides, he told me 
all kinds of strange things.” 

“ What about?” 

“ Oh, I cannot tell you now ; but, Eva ! ” exclaimed 
Frank, recollecting what Malister had told him about 
his child, “ tell me whieh is the elder of you two 
girls.” 

“ I cannot, Frank, because I don’t know ! ” 

“ My dear Eva, that is absurd, you must know.” ■ 

“ If I did, I would tell you, Frank ; but — really I 
think we are the same age.” 

“ Twins ! ” 

“No — ^not twins.” 

“ Well, if you are not twins, one of you must be 
older than the other.” 

“ All I know is this, Frank, that Laura was 
brought up away from home until I was five years 
of age. Then papa brought her to me, and while 
making friends as children do, I said I was five. 
She also said she was five, so you see I know noth- 
ing at all.” 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


67 


“ Do you think she is older than you ? ” 

“I don’t know! We have always passed for be- 
ing the same age — in fact, twins, but we are not.” 

The young doctor felt rather perplexed at all this 
mystery, which had no doubt been arranged by Sir 
Luke to guard against any claim made by Malister 
for his child. One of these girls was the elder, but 
both were ignorant of their real age, so if Malister 
had appeared it would have been impossible for him 
to claim his child. Sir Luke was the only person 
who knew which was which, and he certainly 
would keep silen ce on the sub j ect . Rebelspear, how- 
ever, having learned so curiously a portion of Sir 
Luke’s past history, determined to use his knowledge 
to further his chances of marrying Eva, and made up 
his mind to call upon the baronet the next day. 

“ I really don’t think your father is acting fairly, 
Eva,” he said, after a pause. “I am young, and 
likely to succeed in my profession. We love one 
another dearly, so I will call and ask him to sanc- 
tion our engagement.” 

“ He’ll never do that, Frank. Even if he w^anted 
to, Laura would not let him.” 

Frank felt inclined to use a very bad word in 
connection with this interfering Laura, hut sup- 


68 


THE YEAR OF 311 RAGLE. 


pressing the inclination, he took Eva in his arms 
and kissed her fondly. 

“ Hope for the best, my dearest. I will see your 
father to-morrow, and I have every hope of gaining 
his consent to our marriage. I wish, however, I 
could find out which of you two girls is the 
elder.” 

« Why, Frank ? ” 

“ Because I think such knowledge would remove 
every obstacle to our marriage.” 


CHAPTER VI. 


A WOMAN SCORNED. 

The next day Frank Rebelspear carried out his 
determination to see Sir Luke Kernsha-w, and took 
his way towards Park Lane about the hour of three 
o’clock. It was no use waiting for patients, as after 
that famous first one, no .other person had come for 
medical aid ; but Frank was not thinking of his 
practice so much as of the attitude he intended to 
take towards Sir Luke. Chance, in the person of 
Malister, had placed in his hands a weapon which, 
if used dexterously, might force the baronet to con- 
sent to the wished-for engagement ; nor did Frank 
think he was acting wrongly in taking advantage 
of such a chance. 

The revelations of the old fanatic had startled 
Rebelspear and considerably altered his opinion re- 
garding Sir Luke, whom he had hitherto regarded 

69 


70 tbe year of miracle. 

as the soul of honour. Now, however, that the mask 
was torn off and the baronet appeared as a false 
friend who had ruined a woman, and a man who 
was wrongfully withholding a dearly loved child 
from her father, Rebelspear felt that it was only 
just that he should be met with his own weapons. 
This seemingly honest man was guilty of the most 
ignoble conduct, and sooner than let it be known to 
the world, he would certainly give his daughter — 
supposing Eva to be his daughter — to the impecuni- 
ous young doctor. Frank had no intention of using 
threats to gain his ends ; all he mtended to do was 
to tell Sir Luke what he knew, and then await the 
result of such a revelation. If Sir Luke would let 
him marry Eva and help him in his profession, all 
would go well ; but if not, poor Rebelspear did not 
see what was to be done. True, he might invoke 
the aid of Malister to take away his child, but then 
no one but Sir Luke knew which was the child in 
question ; and even if he did tell, it might turn out 
that Laura was Malister’s daughter, in which case 
Rebelspear would gain no benefit. 

As to the old madman’s weird story of the coming 
plague, Rebelspear dismissed that at once from his 
mind, and never even looked at the antidote, after 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 71 

he had placed it away in his desk. All he desired 
was to marry Eva, and when once that wish was 
gratified, plague or no plague, it mattered nothing 
to him. If the plague did not come — and he never 
for a moment fancied it would — things would go 
on just the same ; but if the city did fall under the 
curse of the Burning Sickness he would, by using 
the cure given to him by the old prophet, be able to 
save both himself and Eva from the terrible visitation. 

. Sir Luke Kernshaw was in his study when Rebel- 
spear arrived, and when the young doctor entered 
the room he was received somewhat stiffly by the 
occupant. The baronet knew quite well what was 
the object of Frank’s visit, but feigned ignorance, 
so as to make the interview as embarrassing as pos- 
sible. Notwithstanding his disapproval of Rebel- 
spear, however, he could not help acknowledging 
to himself that this impecunious suitor was a wonder- 
fully well- looking youth, and in his innermost heart 
could hardly blame his daughter for the partiality 
she displayed towards this medical Adonis. Still, 
good looks did not, in the baronet’r opinion, com- 
pensate for a lack of income, and, like Pharaoh of 
old, he hardened his heart towards the comeliness 
of the unlucky suitor. 


72 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


The baronet was a well-preserved old gentleman 
exquisitely dressed in a somewhat old-fashioned style 
and bore himself in a stiff, dignified manner, which 
formed a marked contrast to the free and easy 
demeanour of the later generation. 

“ You wish to see me, I believe, Dr. Rebelspear?” 
he said, courteously, when his visitor was seated. 

“Yes, sir, on very particular business.” 

“ Indeed ! Connected with your profession, I pre- 
sume ? ” 

“ No, Sir Luke, connected with my happiness.” 

Kernshaw raised his eyebrows a little, and slowly 
tapped the table before him with his gold-rimmed 
pince-nez. 

“ I’m afraid I can do nothing in that way. I cer- 
tainly might be able to help you in your profession, 
hut as to happiness, my dear sir, no mortal can 
bestow that gift.” 

“ It is in your power to be more than mortal then,” 
said Frank, impulsively, “ for you can make me 
very, very happy.” 

“ And how. Dr. Rebelspear ? ” 

“ By allowing me to marry your daughter, Eva.” 

Forewarned is forearmed ; and Sir Luke, expecting 
this audacious proposal, met it m a wonderfully 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


73 


dignified manner. Drawing, himself up pompously, 
he frowned at the unlucky Frank in a Jovian manner, 
and delivered himself of the following oration : 

“ Dr. Rebelspear, I am astonished — nay, thunder- 
struck, at the request you make. You are a young 
man, sir, with neither money nor position, and yet 
you have the boldness to demand from me the hand 
of my daughter in marriage. As you are, doubtless, 
aware, sir, she has been asked in marriage by many 
wealthy and titled gentlemen.” 

“ Yes ; and has refused them all because she 
loves me.” 

“ Loves you ! loves you, sir ! ” reiterated Sir Luke, 
turning as red as a turkey cock. “ Pooh ! nonsense ! 
my daughter has, I trust, too much sense to encour- 
age your ridiculous suit.” 

“ Ridiculous ! ” echoed Frank, fiushing in his turn. 
‘‘ I see nothing ridiculous about it. Sir Luke, and I 
must beg of you to recall that word.” 

The baronet was proud and overbearing, but he 
was also just, and conscious that he had exceeded 
the bounds of courtesy, he at once withdrew the 
offensive epithet. 

“ I ask your pardon. Dr. Rebelspear, I did not 
mean to use the word ; but I am sure you will agree 


74 


THE YEAB OF 3IlliACLE. 


with me that it is hardly sensible for you to propose 
to keep a wife, when at present you cannot keep 
yourself.” 

“ I will soon make a practice, Sir Luke.” 

“No doubt — no doubt — youth is always sanguine. 
Air castles are very fine things. Dr. Rehelspear, but 
unsubstantial, sir, very unsubstantial. You, I have 
no doubt, have a sufficiency of intellect, but what 
about patients, sir, — aye, that’s the rub.” 

“ I have one patient who came last night.” 

“ Well, well, that is the first step. Still one 
patient, however opulent, will not keep a doctor 
going.” 

“ I’m afraid this first patient of mine is not very 
opulent,” said Rehelspear, fixing his eyes steadily on 
the baronet ; “on the contrary, he is very poor. No 
doubt you have heard of him. Sir Luke, as his name 
is Matthew Malister.” 

At the sound of this fatal name. Sir Luke grew 
very pale, and his right hand kept opening and 
shutting in a nervous manner ; but beyond this, he 
gave no further signs of emotion. Rehelspear, hav- 
ing thus made the first attack, waited for Kernshaw 
to return or parry the blow, but the baronet seemed 
inclined to do neither one thing nor the other. 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


76 


“ Ah ! Matthew Malister ! ” he said at last, with a 
visible effort ; “ is that not the madman who goes 
about talkmg of a coming plague ? ” 

« The same ? ITe was knocked over by a cab last 
night and came to me to dress his wound.” 

“ Have as little to do with him as possible, Rebel- 
spear,” said Sir Luke, vehemently ; “ he is a most 
dangerous character.” 

“ You seem to know him very well, sir ? ” replied 
the young doctor, looking searchingly at the bar- 
onet. 

The old man tried to meet that steady gaze, hut 
was unable to do so, and after faltering forth a few 
words, relapsed into silence. Then recollecting that 
Rebelspear could not possibly know of his treachery 
towards Malister, he rose to his feet to intimate the 
interview was ended. 

“ I know nothing of this man,” he said, coldly, 
“ except what I read in the papers. He seems to 
me to be one of those mischievous persons who do 
a great deal of harm by their fanaticism, and the 
wisest plan would be to shut him up in some 
asylum.” 

“ Which, no doubt, would be pleasing to you. Sir 


Luke.” 


76 


THE YEAB OF MIRACLE. 


“ Dr. Rebelspear, what do you mean ? ” 

“ I mean that I have heard Malister’s story, and 1 
know, Sir Luke Kernshaw, that you are not what 
you appear to he.” 

“You are mad! ’’gasped Sir Luke, with ashen 
looks. 

“ I am not mad ; I am as sane as you are. Malis- 
ter told me last night all about his false friend, his 
pretty wife, his lost daughter ! Ah, you wince at 
those last words. Sir Luke, and well you may, for 
you know that Malister’s daughter is not lost ! ” 

“ Not lost ! ” 

“ No ! she has been brought up as your own child 
— with your own child, and either Laura or Eva, 
both of whom the world calls your daughters, is the 
offspring of Matthew Malister and not of Luke 
Kernshaw.” 

The baronet saw that his secret was known, and 
being thus driven into a corner, he attempted to 
bully and bluster, which was quite the wrong way 
to take with Frank Rebelspear, as he soon saw. 

“ How dare you, sir ? ” he cried furiously, “ how 
dare you come here with such abominable lies ? 
You threaten me, sir ; you dare to threaten me.” 

“ I am not threatenmg you I ” retorted Frank, 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 77 

springing to his feet. « I came here to ask the hand 
of your daughter Eva, whom I love, and you re- 
ceived me with insults. What right have you to 
behave thus, sir ? you whose past hfe holds this 
infamy of which I was told last night ? ” 

“ It’s a lie ! Malister is mad.” 

“ Not in this matter. He is mad with religion, 
with fanaticism, mad about the destruction of Lon- 
don, about the coming plague, hut what he says 
about you is true. You were his false friend, who 
robbed him of his wife and child, and one of these 
two girls who pass as your daughters is no kith nor 
kin of yours.” 

“ Which of them is not my child ? ” 

“ I do not know ! ” 

“ No, Dr. Rebelspear, nor will you ever know. I 
deny all you have said, and as I have some influence 
with the Home Secretary I will have this Malister 
locked up as a madman. As for you who come here 
to threaten me, I defy your threats, and I forbid 
you to speak to or even see my daughter again.” 

“ 1 shall do both because I do not believe Eva is 
your daughter.” 

“ Leave my house, sir, you — you medical pauper, 
or I will have you turned out by the servants.” 


78 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


“ Sir Tjuke,” said Frank, taking up his hat and 
gloves, “ this interview is undignified and unworthy 
of us both. I did not come here to threaten you, 
but to ask permission to marry your daughter 
Eva!” 

“ I refuse the permission you ask.” 

“ Very well ! As I cannot obtain your permission 
one way I will do so in another. Malister has told 
me the truth about you I am sure, and I warn you, 
that I will leave no stone unturned to make the 
matter public.” 

“ Threats again, sir ! ” 

“ Call them what you like,” replied Rebelspear, 
carelessly, going to the door. “ But I love Eva, and 
she loves me, so we are certainly not going to have 
our lives spoilt by you, who I really believe have no 
right to interfere.” 

“ Not interfere with my own daughter?” 

“ Pardon me, Malister’s daughter.” 

“ You’ve got to prove that. Dr. Rebelspear.” 

“ I will do so. Sir Luke, and within three days.” 

With this parting shot Frank took his departure, 
feeling that if he had not secured a victory, he had, 
at least, sustained a glorious defeat. He hardly liked 
the position he had taken up, but the manner in 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 79 

which Sir Luke had met his first courteous advances 
had left him no choice, and now that he had declared 
war he determined to find out the whole truth of 
the matter. If Eva proved to be the daughter of 
Malister, he fully made up his mind to marry her 
without delay, and if Sir Luke proved to be her 
father, he would secure his ends by some other 
means. 

As he passed through the hall somewhat flushed 
after his encounter with the baronet, he heard a 
light step behind him and turned round quickly. 

“ Eva ! ” 

It was not Eva, however, but Laura, who flushed 
red with anger when she heard the name of her 
sister. 

“You expected to see Eva, and you are disap- 
pointed only seeing me.” 

“ Miss Kernshaw ! ” 

“ Oh, I know why you have come here to-day,” 
cried Laura, tauntingly. “ To ask my father’s per- 
mission to marry Eva, and he has refused you.” 

“ Yes ! ” 

“ I’m glad of it,” she said, clenching her teeth. 
“ You shall never marry Eva ! — a milk-and-water 
minx who is not worthy of you.” 


80 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


“ Miss Kernshaw — your own sister ! ” 

“My own sister,” she said mockingly. “ So you 

say — so the world says. But I Do you know 

the habits of the cuckoo, Dr. Rebelspear, that leaves 
its young in a strange nest ? ” 

“ I cannot understand you. Miss Kernshaw.” 

“ Can you not? Wait a little. You will under- 
stand shortly. What I know I know.” 

“ But what do you know ? ” 

“ That you will never marry Eva ! ” 


CHAPTER VII. 


THE BURNING SICKNESS. 

For many weeks an enormous comet had burned 
fiercely in the heavens, hanging over Europe 
like an avenging sword, to the great dismay of 
London’s five million inhabitants. All the scien- 
tific men were perplexed over this comet which 
had appeared in a totally unexpected manner, and 
was evidently a new visitor to the solar system. 
The nucleus burned with a fierce dazzling light, and 
from it sprang two tails which swept in tremendous 
majesty across the whole expanse of the midnight 
sky. Even in the broad blaze of the sun the form 
of this tiger of the sky was perfectly visible, but 
at night the sight of the colossal visitor was truly 
appalling. Great was the discussion in scientific 
circles anent this comet, which some asserted to be 
a periodic one, identifying it with Halley’s which 
had last appeared in one thousand eight hundred 


82 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


and thirty-five, and which was due again about the 
beginning of the twentieth century. As this, how- 
ever, was only the year nineteen hundred, and 
Halley’s comet was calculated to he due in nineteen 
hundred and ten, it was hardly probable that it was 
the same, so this double-tailed monster was looked 
upon as new to the earth, or, at least, its last aj)- 
pearance had taken place in the dark ages when 
these visitors were regarded with the eye of super- 
stition and not that of science. 

At all events, new or old, the appearance of the 
comet made an extraordmary sensation, and many 
people, remembering the sign which had appeared 
in London prior to the Great Plague — believed the 
preaching of Malister when he asserted that this 
comet heralded a similar visitation. The believers 
in the prophecies of Daniel talked about the fulfil- 
ment of the appointed time, the creation of the 
kingdom of the beast, and looked upon this sign as 
one especially blazoned in the sky by God to mark the 
beginning of the great events about to take place. 
The greater number of the common people, how- 
ever, believed in Malister, and his meetings in 
Hyde Park became quite a nuisance owing to the 
multitudes which gathered to hear him. His inces- 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


83 


sant denunciations of the wickedness of London, his 
terrible prophecies of the coming plague, his 
frequent references to the great sword of light 
streaming in the sky, all began to have their effect, 
and a thrill of alarm ran through the mighty city. A 
wave of religion swept over the land, and the 
empty churches became filled with worshippers who 
strove to hide their uneasiness by devoutness of out- 
ward bearing. At last, the alarm became so general 
that the arrest of this new John the Baptist was 
ordered, but when the police attempted to seize him 
he disappeared in the crowd with one last warning 
of the near approach of the Burning Sickness. 

Two days afterward the plague broke out. 

It began in Whitechapel, that crowded centre of 
disease and crime, where several persons were seized 
by the sickness in the early morning, and during the 
day many more succumbed to this new malady, 
which the medical profession was quite unable to 
understand. The first symptoms were a slight 
feverishness, hot and cold chills, profuse perspira- 
tion, and swimming in the head like an attack of 
vertigo ; then the whole body seemed to be consumed 
by some inward fire of the blood, and the victim, fall- 
ing prone on the ground, was unable to move hand 


84 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


or foot, but gradually sank into a stupor, until re- 
leased by death, which invariably took place with- 
in twelve hours after the first seizure. 

From Whitechapel the plague spread to Stepney, 
where the mortality was very great ; then with a 
sudden leap it passed over the city and appeared in 
Greenwich, far down the Thames. In vain the doc- 
tors tried to cope with this new disease ; it defied all 
attempts to cure it, and when anyone was seized the 
case was hopeless. The alarm of the people in- 
creased to a frenzy, and there was great danger of a 
riot taking place, owing to the terror felt by the 
inhabitants of the city. The streets in the lower 
part of London were strewn with the dead and 
dying, while it took the undertakers all their time 
to bury the bodies. 

To add to the horrors, every now and then Malis- 
ter appeared in the affected districts, and preached 
fiercely against the wickedness of the age, taunting 
the people with neglecting his warnings, and glory- 
ing in their present calamity. Furious at these 
insults the mob would have killed Malister, but he 
always managed to evade them and vanished for a 
time, only to reappear in a new part of London at 
some fresh outbreak of the Burning Sickness. 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


85 


The papers, of course, were full of the matter, and 
regarded it as merely a local visitation which would 
soon pass ; but the authorities could not conceal the 
alarm which they felt at the magnitude of the disas- 
ter. All the medical profession in London met 
together in order to consult as to the best way of 
curing this new disease, but they were unable to 
come to any decision, and separated in confusion, 
all of which, being reported in the papers, in- 
creased the terrors felt by the overcrowded popula- 
tion. 

Dr. Rebelspear, on hearing of the outbreak of a 
new disease in Whitechapel, did not pay much 
attention to it, still disbelieving in the wild story 
told by Malister, but when he heard how rapidly the 
disease was spreading, and how its appearance in a 
fresh place was always heralded by the preaching of 
the fanatic, he began to think that there might be 
some truth in the story after all. 

For some time he tried to find Malister, but was 
unable to do so, as a constant dread of the police 
kept the fanatic away from the West End, and he 
always appeared in the most unexpected places ; so 
that Frank might as well have attempted to catch a 
will-o’-the-wisp as this extraordinary creature, whose 


86 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


very appearance was hailed as fatal. The young 
doctor, now seriously alarmed about the affair, 
hastened to Park Lane to see Sir Luke, and implore 
him to leave London with his daughters, hut the 
baronet would not grant him an interview, and 
Frank was forced to return to his own house in a 
very disturbed state of mind. 

After his interview with Sir Luke, he had not been 
permitted to see Eva, nor even to correspond with 
her, and now that this terrible disease was devas- 
tating the East End, he trembled lest it should 
make its appearance in Park Lane and kill the girl 
he loved before he could save her. 

Save her ? Yes, he felt sure that he could save 
her, for had he not in his possession the phial given 
to him by the old fanatic ? Formerly he had disbe- 
lieved in its virtues, but now that the plague, fore- 
told by Malister, had actually arrived, Rebelspear, 
seeing that one part of the story was true, did not 
see why he should not believe the other. He had 
no doubt that Malister had broken the phial, con- 
taining the germs of the plague, in Whitechapel, 
from which nucleus the disease was now spreading 
all over London, and believing this — which he could 
hardly help doing now — he was quite satisfied that 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE, 87 

the contents of the phial m his desk would cure the 
Burning Sickness. 

When the meeting of doctors took place in order 
to see whether they could find a remedy for this 
strange disease, Rebelspear was very nearly attend- 
ing it and telling his story about Malister and the 
phial. But after some little refiection he determined 
to keep silent, at least, for some time, as he was 
afraid lest his confreres should treat his narrative as an 
absurdity, and all he would gain would be contempt 
and scorn. With this idea in his head, he kept silent 
about the cure, but nevertheless he took it out of 
his desk to examine it. 

Remembering the instructions of Malister, he half 
filled a glass with water, and, unscrewing the glass 
stopper of the phial, he found that it contamed a 
clear, colourless liquid, thick and oily like glycerine. 
With great care he dropped three drops of this 
sluggish liquid into the water, upon which the con- 
tents of the glass assumed a purplish tinge, and in 
another minute changed to a deep crimson. Rebel- 
spear smelt this preparation, which had a pungent 
odour, like ammonia, and havmg tasted it, also dis- 
covered that the fiavour was intensely bitter. What 
it was he could not determine, as although he analysed 


88 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


it with the greatest care, he was quite unable to 
come to any conclusion regarding its component parts. 
If it cured, as Malister said, every drop was worth 
its weight in gold, therefore Rebelspear felt a great 
desire to try its effects upon some person afflicted 
with the Burning Sickness. No one was at hand, 
however, as the disease had not yet reached the 
West End, so Rebelspear replaced the phial in his 
desk and put the tumbler, containing the blood-red 
water, into a small cabinet near the window. 

“ At all events,” he said to himself, when this was 
done, “ if this Burning Sickness does seize me I shall 
be able to cure myself and Eva also.” 

But Eva ! ah, how he wished that he could see 
her and tell her of the cure he had in his possession, 
but Sir Luke was still resentful against him for the 
way he had spoken to him, and Rebelspear was shut 
out from Paradise. He tried to see Eva at balls — at 
times in the Park ; but she was always accompanied 
by Laura, who refused to let her sister speak to the 
man whom she loved herself. 

Of one thuig Rebelspear was certain : that Laura 
knew one of them was not the child of Sir Luke, and, 
moreover, knew which one it was. Her words to 
him in the hall of the Park Lane mansion indicated 


TUB YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


89 

Eva, but it was possible that she herself might be 
the child of Malister. The only way of finding out 
would be to have another conversation with Malister, 
but he had not been near the young doctor since 
that fatal night when he had revealed such horrors. 

Juhan Delicker had also left town, and would 
doubtless keep away now that he heard of the 
plague. Frank could hardly help wondering how 
he regarded the outbreak of the disease after all his 
scofiings at the prophecies of Malister, but, no mat- 
ter what view he took of the affair, Rebelspear was 
satisfied that he would look after himself and keep 
away from danger. 

There was thus no one to whom Frank could 
speak about his fears for Eva, or of the mystery 
which involved the birth of the sisters, so he mostly 
stayed at home, still waiting for patients, and worry- 
ing over his enforced separation from the girl he 
loved. 

Not knowing he had a cure for the plague, no one 
came to see him, and he was as far off making a 
beginning in his profession as ever. True, he might 
advertise that he could cure the Burning Sickness, 
but then he would be simply overwhelmed with 
patients, and the contents of the phial were so 


90 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


precious that if he exhausted them in curing for gold 
he might himself fall a victim to the disease itself, 
in which case his money would be of no use to him. 
Besides, he felt sure that the disease would yet 
come to the West End, and Eva would fall a victim, 
so he carefully hoarded that precious phial, that he 
might help her and himself in time of need. Up 
to the present, however, the disease had not visited 
Belgravia, and the upper ten did not regard the 
plague in the East End as serious. They were 
sorry certainly, but they did not think it would 
attack them, so went on gaily with their usual 
amusements without thinking of the terrible spectre 
that was at their doors. 

They sang, they danced, they feasted, they sinned, 
nor dreamed that the angel of death was hovering 
over them ; but the handwriting was on the wall, 
and the days of their wickedness, their luxury, and 
their idleness were drawing to a close. 


CIIAPTEU VIII. 


THREE DROPS IN A GLASS OP WATER. 

It was now about a week since the Burning Sick- 
ness had first made its appearance, and during that 
time it had steadily increased. Every daj^ the 
number of victims grew larger, and aided, doubtless, 
by the dry heat of summer the disease was spread- 
ing with rapid virulence. As yet, however, it was 
confined to the poorer parts of the city, and every 
effort was made to prevent its penetrating to the 
West End. Large bonfires were lighted in the 
streets m the hope of destroying the germs in the 
air ; all persons were strictly forbidden to leave the 
infected districts, and all that human ingenuity 
could devise was done in order to check the progress 
of the pestilence, but without result, for at the end 
of a fortnight from its first appearance the Burning 
Sickness milde its appearance in Park Lane. 

As usual it was headed by Malister, who suddenly 
reappeared on Sunday morning in Hyde Park, and 

91 


92 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


delivered a short, fiery speech, in which he told the 
well-dressed idlers that all their precautions were 
vain ; then, before he could be seized, he darted off 
rapidly through the Park by Achille’s Statue. Many 
of the police started off after him, but in spite of 
his great age the old man was wonderfully fieet of 
foot, and dodged, and twisted, and turned, and 
doubled until his pursuers were fairly out of breath. 
In spite of his nimbleness, however, he would, doubt- 
less, in the end, have been captured had he not 
suddenly vaulted on to a horse which was fastened 
to an iron pillar on the curb stone, and cutting the 
reins loose, started off full speed down Oxford Street, 
crying : “ The x^lague ! the plague ! ” 

The police, being on foot, were unable to keep up 
with him, and thus having a good start, Malister was 
regarded as a herald of the plague, which inspired 
such dread in the crowd that no one attempted to 
stop him. At length he disappeared down a side 
street, and the people were left looking apprehen- 
sively at one another, wondering whether the pest- 
ilence was really in their midst. 

It was a hot, burning, summer day, with a cloud- 
less sky, and being Sunday everyone was dressed in 
his or her gayest apparel, when suddenly a young 


THE TEAB OF MIRACLE. 


93 


man in the crowd, who had been shivering as with 
ague for some time, threw up his hands with a loud 
cry and fell prone on the earth. That cry sent an 
electric thrill through the multitude, and everyone 
hastened home in a frenzy of alarm. The authori- 
ties took as prompt steps as possible, and the young 
man who had been seized with the Burning Sick- 
ness was at once removed ; but the Monday morn- 
ing papers were full of the affair, and everyone knew 
that the much dreaded pestilence was at last in the 
West End. 

Dr. Rebelspear was horrified when he heard of 
the terrible event which had happened in Oxford 
Street,, and he made up his mind to swallow his 
pride and go once more to the house in Park Lane 
in order to implore Sir Luke to take his daughters 
out of town. Crowds of people were already leav- 
ing London, but Sir Luke, being confined to his 
house with gout, had not yet left the neighbourhood, 
and, with characteristic selfishness, he refused to 
let either Laura or Eva go. At any moment one of 
the three might be seized with the plague, and then, 
unless he was at hand to administer the cure, Frank 
felt sure that he would lose the girl he loved. 

Going to his desk he took thence the phial, so as 


94 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


to be prepared for emergencies, and, putting on his 
hat, was about to start for Kernshaw’s house, when 
the door of his study was violently thrown open, 
and Julian Delicker rushed — or rather reeled — into 
the room. 

Yes, it was Julian Delicker, pale and haggard, 
with his usually neat attire all in disorder, and as 
Rebelspear looked at him in astonishment he saw 
that the unfortunate young man was shaking as 
with ague. 

“Julian!” he cried, as his old schoolfellow fell 
into a chair in a state of exhaustion ; “ what is the 
matter ? Good God ! have you ” 

“ The cure ! the cure ! ” gasped Julian, feverishly ; 
“ give me the phial that Malister gave you. I have 
the plague.” 

“ The plague ! ” 

“Yes! Do you remember how I scoffed and 
laughed at the old man, Frank ? God forgive me. 
It is true, perfectly true, all he said. He has brought 
this devil-curse with him from Arabia, and soon 
there will not be one person left alive in this city.” 

“ But I thought you were out of town ? ” 

“ I was ! I was down at Brighton, but the plague 
is there ! ” 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


95 


“ At Brighton ! impossible.” 

“I tell you it is true. It is spreading all over 
the kingdom, while, as for London, thousands are 
dying every day.” 

“ Poor Eva ! ” 

“ Eva, Eva ! ” cried Delicker, with a ghastly laugh, 
“ don’t talk about her, Frank. Is this the time to 
marry and talk of love in this carnival of death? 
Give me the cure or I shall die! You have that 
phial, have you not ? ” 

“ Yes ; here it is ! ” 

Delicker uttered a cry of joy, and stretched his 
hands out towards the glittering crystal. 

“Thank God, thank God! I shall live, I shall 
live. O, Frank, if you only knew the tortures I 
have endured. I was seized with this cursed Sick- 
ness down at Brighton, and I came up by the next 
train to see you, the only man who I knew could 
cure me. Give me the cure, quick; quick, I may 
fall down any moment.” 

“Wait,” said Rebelspear, filling a glass with 
water ; “ I must prepare it as old Malister told me. 
The old villain ! he ought to be hanged for inflict- 
ing this terrible disease on London.” 

“ If I meet him I’ll kill him, Frank. I will, I 


96 


THE YEAE OF MIBACLE. 


will ! Do you know that my mother is dead of this 
cursed plague ? My friends are dying daily, and, I 
— every moment I feel that I am getting nearer to 
death.” 

“ Tell me how you feel.” 

“ How can I tell. I am hot and cold hy turns — 
then my blood seems to be on fire. My head swims 
round and round — oh, it is terrible! Have you 
seen anyone die of this^ Burning Sickness, Frank ? ” 

“ Yes ; many ! ” 

“ And you never saved them ? ” 

“How could I,” replied Frank, dropping three 
drops into the glass of water ; “ there is not enough 
in this phial to save more than a few people. If I 
had done so I would not have been able to save you.” 

“ You believe it will act ? ” 

“ I don’t know, but as one part of Malister’s story 
is true, I don’t see why the other should not be. 
See, the water is crimson as he described. Drink it at 
once and we will see if it will cure you.” 

“ It must, it must, I cannot die now. I am too 
young to die.” 

He stretched out his hands eagerly towards the 
glass, rising to his feet in his intense desire to 
seize the life-giving draught — when, just as his 


THE TEAR OF MIRACLE. 97 

fingers touched it, he gave a wild shriek and fell 
like a log on the fioor. 

There he lay paralyzed in every limb, unable to 
move hand or foot, with a look of agony on his 
worn face, and an incessant cry for that precious glass 
of crimson fiuid which would bring him back again 
from the grave. 

“ Frank, Frank ! I can’t move, I can’t move. I’m 
all on fire within. Dear old fellow, give me the 
drink and save me. You don’t want to see me die 
before your eyes, do you ? ” 

“No, no, of course not,” answered Frank kneeling 
down beside this helipless log of humanity. “ Here, 
drink this up at once.” 

“ Where is it ? ” moaned Julian, feebly, “ I can’t 
see it, there is a mist before my eyes, I feel dull and 
stupid. Ah ! ” 

His last ejaculation was caused by his dry lips 
coming in contact with the rim of the glass, and 
with greedy avidity he drank down every drop that 
was in the tumbler. 

“ Dear old fellow ! Good old Frank ! ” he mur- 
mured drowsily ; “ that does me good. It cools my 
blood ; hut O, Frank, do you think I am going to 
die?” 


7 


98 


THE TEAR OF MIRACLE. 


“ No ; no ! I am sure this will cure you, Julian.” 

“ Give me your hand, Frank ; I’m afraid to he alone. 
Oh, what a coward I am ! ” 

“ Let me put you on the couch first,” said Rebel- 
spear, and lifting Julian in his arms he laid him 
gently on the sofa. 

“Your hand; I’m afraid. Give me your hand,” 
muttered Julian, thickly, and then his eyes closed 
and he sank into a profound slumber, while Frank 
sat patiently by his side holding his hand. 

The windows of the consulting-room were wide 
open and the hot air fiowed into the room. Through 
the luminous haze Frank could see the spires of the 
churches and tops of the near houses, hut the famil- 
iar sounds of traffic and human voices were miss- 
ing. Not the roll of a wheel or the cry of a man 
broke the intense silence, and Frank saw how truly 
Malister had spoken when he said that this mighty 
London would become as desolate and deserted as 
the sand-girdled city of Nar. 

Hour after hour passed slowly, and Rebelspear be- 
gan to feel somewhat cramped as he sat there with his 
hand tightly clutched by Julian. He was unwilling 
to remove it, being afraid lest any disturbing in- 
fluence should interfere with the cure ; so there he 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


99 


sat through the long afternoon watching the face 
of the sleeping man. After an hour or so had passed, 
the dazed look vanished from the countenance of 
the patient, and a calm sleeping look appeared 
instead; then drops of moisture began to gather 
on his forehead, the hand which Frank held became 
damp ; and in a short time it became evident that 
Julian was bathed from head to foot in profuse 
perspiration. His breathing was calm and regular, 
the burning heat seemed to have passed away, and 
when the clock in the adjacent church sounded six, 
he awoke with a smile of gratitude on his face, after 
having slept five hours. 

“How do you feel, Julian?” asked Rebelspear, 
rising to his feet and stretching his cramped limbs. 

“ I feel splendid ! All the burning feeling has 
passed away . My head is perfectly clear ; and oh, 
Frank, I feel so fearfully hungry.” 

“ That’s a good sign anyhow,” said Frank, ringing 
the bell for the servant to bring up food. 

“ What have you been doing, Frank ? ” 

“ Sittmg by you, holding your hand.” 

Julian slowly got off the couch and rising to his 
feet walked across the room to his friend. 

“ Frank,” he said in a tone of emotion, “ words 


100 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


are idle to express what I feel to you for saving my 
life, but 1 hope some day to show my gratitude.” 

“ Don’t thank me, Julian, but rather God, for hav- 
ing saved you.” 

“ I do thank Him, and most fervently ! But oh, 
Frank, this cure is true after all.” 

“ It appears so.” 

“ Then let us get Eva Kernshaw and leave this 
cursed city at once.” 

“ But the money.” 

“I have plenty, and whatever I have is yours.” 

« Still 

“ Not a word, Frank Rebelspear . Y ou have saved 
my life. Nothing I can do for you can ever repay 
that. We will go to the Continent, and you will 
marry Eva at once.” 

“ But her father.” 

“ Sir Luke ? Oh, he deserves to die, for had it not 
been for his treachery, Malister would never have 
gone to Arabia and brought back this terrible pesti- 
lence.” 


CHAPTER IX. 


THE SPREAD OP THE PLAGUE. 

Owing to the Burning Sickness the season of one 
thousand nine hundred had abruptly come to an 
end ; and everyone who could possibly manage to do 
so was flying from the fated city. Many wanted to 
go to the Continent, hut so great was the dread there 
of the plague that the dwellers on the mainland re- 
fused to allow the fugitives to land on their shores. 
The steamers across the English Channel stopped 
running ; and no English person was allowed to set 
foot in France or Belgium. In America, too, the 
same selflsh fear prevailed, and the United States 
refused to Hold any communication with England 
whatsoever. The whole of the United Kingdom was 
boycotted by the world ; and to the horrors of the 
plague there seemed likely to be added the still more 
appalling horrors of famine. 

Of course, owing to the blockade, neither Julian 

nor Frank Rebelspear could cross over to the Con- 
101 


102 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


tinent ; and even had they been able to do so, Eva 
Kernshaw would not have fled with them, not even 
with the man she loved. 

Sir Luke was still conflned to his house with gout, 
and was unable to leave London owing to the difii- 
culty found in obtaining means of transport, besides 
which it was simply a case of “ out of the frying pan 
into the Are,” as the Burning Sickness had spread 
throughout the whole of the three kingdoms. In 
Liverpool, Manchester, Dublin, Glasgow, and Edin- 
burgh the mortality was somethmg frightful ; while 
as for the capital itself the people were dying in the 
streets like dogs, at the rate of hundreds a day. The 
Government had almost given up even the semblance 
of authority, as they had hardly any men with whom* 
to work ; and the army, the police, the officials of all 
grades were thoroughly demoralised owing to the 
frightful state of things. 

All through those hot July days the plague stead- 
ily increased, and the task of burying the dead was 
now quite beyond the power of the living. All the 
shops were shut up ; whole streets were deserted, 
and grass actually began to grow in some of them. 
Of course not a theatre was open, as there were 
neither actors to act nor audiences to attend, and the 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


103 


people thronged the churches m countless numbers. 
All these old city churches, built after the Great 
Fire of 1666, and so long left to silence and dust, 
were now crowded with frantic people trying to 
avert the wrath of heaven with useless prayers. 

This was the boasted age of science, when all the 
worms of the earth denied the existence of God : and 
lo ! now that he had smitten them in his wrath, they 
were on their knees imploring Him to spare them. 
In this trying time the clergy came nobly to the 
front, and worked night and day among the dying 
— helping, succouring, aiding, consoling their un- 
happy fellow-creatures. The streets were cumbered 
with the dead and the dying. Trafalgar Square was 
one great sepulchre — hardly a cab, a cart, or a horse 
was to be seen on the streets, and a silence reigned 
over the whole of this mighty city, only broken by 
the wailing of those seized by the mortal sickness. 
It seemed as if London was doomed ; as if every 
man, woman, and child would perish under this terri- 
ble scourge of God, and over all the frightful desola- 
tion and terror still hung that fierce comet fiaming 
in the cloudless sky like the visible sword of the 
angel of death. 

Frank tried to see Sir Luke and Eva in order to 


104 the year of miracle. 

help them, hut the old baronet had barricaded him- 
self in his house in dread of the plague ; and he, his 
daughters, and his servants were shut up as in a 
tomb. Longing for news of the woman he loved, 
Frank used to wander up and down in front of the 
house calling upon Eva, but she never came, and he 
thought that in her dread of the pestilence she had 
forgotten him. In all his wanderings, Rebelspear 
was accompanied by Julian ; and many a time would 
have saved some poor wretch by that wonderful 
phial had not Delicker warned him that there was 
but enough to save himself and Eva. This stayed 
his hand, and he was forced to see his fellow-men 
dying on all sides without being able to save them 
from death. 

After seeing how Julian was cured, however, some- 
thing appeared to him to be necessary to stay the 
disease, and that was to induce profuse perspiration 
which sweated out all the humours of the sickness. 
He suggested this remedy to several physicians, and 
it was immediately tried with great success, so at 
last there seemed to be some chance of stopping the 
plague. 

“Julian,” said Frank, one day after they had 
been working hard at helping the sick and the 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


105 


dying, “ I wonder what has become of old Malister ? ” 
“ The last time I heard of him, he was preaching 
at St. Paul’s,” replied Julian. “ Why, what do you 
want to see him about ? ” 

“ I want to find out whether there is any chance 
of stopping this plague. He possibly may know of 
some remedy.” 

“I doubt it!” 

“ However we can but try ; besides, I want to dis- 
cover the truth about those two girls, so let us go to 
St. Paul’s this evening and find him if possible.” 

This being settled they went off immediately after 
dinner ; a very meagre dinner it was, as provisions 
were now frightfully dear, owing to the blockade. 
It seemed as if the rest of the world were going to 
let the English die of hunger, and had it not been 
for the fieet without doubt things would have been 
much worse. The Americans, however, sent over 
many ships laden with grain and cattle, and the Con- 
tinental nations also did their best; so if there was 
not plenty, there was at least enough to keep people 
alive. Julian and Frank, however, were too anxious- 
minded to eat much, and after having lighted their 
pipes as a preventive against infection, they started 
off for the city. 


106 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


Of course it was impossible to get a vehicle of any 
sort, so they had to walk the whole way, and all 
along the Strand found themselves impeded by dead 
bodies, which were being gathered into closed carts 
and taken to the great pits dug outside the city. 

“ Does not this put you in mind of Defoe, Julian ? ” 
said Frank, as they saw cart after cart with its dol- 
orous burden moving off. “ Bring out your dead ! 
Bring out your dead ! ” 

“Yes, and this is more frightful than the last 
plague as the population is so much larger.” 

“ They ought to bury those corpses as quickly as 
possible, for with the present heat things will come 
to a frightful pitch if they are left unburied. Did 
you see Trafalgar Square as we came past — pah ! 
like one vast charnel house. See, there go some of 
the Life Guards. I wonder what is up ? ” 

“ I know,” said Julian, after a pause. “ Malister 
is stirring u^^ all sorts of rows with his preaching, 
and they are going to arrest him.” 

“ All those soldiers to arrest one man ! Absurd ! ” 
“Not one man! Malister is supported by the 
populace, who believe him to be a prophet. Fancy 
that in our days, Frank ! I expect there will be 


a row. 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


107 


The soldiers moved quickly down the Strand at a 
sharp trot, with the rays of the sunset flashing on 
their glittering arms and accoutrements, while the 
jingling of their martial panoply sounded clear and 
distinct through the darkness. 

“It looks like the sacking of a city,” said Frank, 
as they quickly followed the troops, “ these closed 
houses, these dead bodies, and the soldiers riding 
along. I can hardly believe that this is London.” 

“It is no longer London !” replied Julian, with 
some sadness. “ It will never be London again.” 

“ Ah, you think so now ; but what about your 
idea of a plague for the regeneration of mankind ? ” 

“ Oh ! ” cried Julian, with a shudder, “ all my 
ideas vanish before this terrible reality ; but hark ! 
there are the first mutterings of the storm.” 

A low hoarse murmur like the sound of waves 
breaking upon a pebbly beach announced the vicinity 
of the crowd. By this time the two friends had 
arrived at Ludgate Hill, just under the railway arch, 
and looking up the street they saw that the space in 
front of the Cathedral was fllled with a great multi- 
tude, and the troop of soldiers were drawn across 
the upper end of the street. As they walked up to 
the square they saw that Malister had climbed up 


108 


THE TEAB OF MIRACLE. 


on the pedestal of Queen Anne’s statue, and could 
hear his voice harsh and vehement ringing through 
the air. 

“Woe! woe! woe! to the wicked city — to the 
evil city that hath sat proudly with the princes of 
the earth. Her towers shall be cast down, her 
pride shall be humbled in the dust. The arm of the 
Lord is stretched out in His might, and none shall 
escape from His wrath. But a portion of your 
trouble is come unto you, O city of palaces, and the 
days of your mourning are not yet completed ! Woe ! 
woe! woe! for the sword of the Lord is in the 
heavens and it hath smitten the children of men.” 

Behind him arose the immense fa9ade of the Ca- 
thedral, with its great doors and many windows and 
figures of saints, while high above, the mighty dome 
arose into the clear sky like a huge bubble, bearing 
on its summit the golden cross, symbol of Christian- 
ity ; but higher than the dome, higher than the 
cross, flashed the comet, with terrible splendour, in 
the heavens. 

The crowd below swayed hither and thither, with 
murmurs, as the fierce denunciations of Malister 
sounded through the square, and then turned boldly 
on the little troop of soldiers. The Riot Act was 


THE TEAR OF MIRACLE. V 109 

read, commanding them to disperse ; hut encour- 
aged by Malister, they refused to do so, and the cap- 
tain gave orders to charge. For one moment there 
was a dead silence, and then the military and the 
crowd closed in deadly conflict. Shrieks, oaths, 
cries, shots ; it was a perfect babel of sounds, as the 
soldiers rode down the poor wretches before them, 
trying to cut a path to Malister, who still stood toss- 
ing his arms, upon the pedestal of the statue. Ju- 
lian had fought his way, in company with Frank, 
nearly to this point, when he heard the officer give 
the order to fire, and he had just time to pull his 
friend down before a dozen shots rang out, and Mal- 
ister fell wounded from the pedestal. 

Frank was close to him, and took him by the arm, 
but the fanatic was only slightly hurt in one of his 
arms, and, with a cry of rage, he tore himself from 
the grasp of the young man, and vanished in the 
crowd. 

On seeing the fall of their prophet, the crowd, not 
having any further courage for fighting, began to 
melt away ; and with them disappeared Malister, 
who could not be found, so the guard rode back to 
Whitehall, in some disgust at their bad fortune ; 
while Julian and Frank returned home. 


CHAPTER X. 


RIVALS. 

A FEW days after the riot at St Paul’s Cathedral, 
Frank was sitting alone in his consulting-room, 
plunged in gloomy reflections. Julian had gone 
in search of Malister, whom rumour asserted had 
taken up his abode in one of the deserted man- 
sions in Park Lane ; so Frank was left quite alone 
with his own thoughts, which were none of the 
pleasantest. He had heard nothing of Eva for 
many days, and for all he knew, she might he al- 
ready dead, while the terrible calamity which had 
befallen the English nation, and the disorganisation 
of the country, promised hut a gloomy future for 
many years to come. 

While sitting in this unenviable frame of mind, 
the door opened slowly, and Eva herself walked in- 
to the room. She was dressed in some soft, grey 
material, and wore a thin, grey veil, which she 

flung back as she came towards her lover, showing 

no 


THE TEAR OF MIRACLE. 


Ill 


her face, pale and worn-looking, with dark circles 
under her eyes, and a pinched look about her lips. 

“Frank!” she cried, joyfully, throwing herself 
mto his arms, “ my dearest ! how glad I am to see 
you again.” 

“ Eva ! ” he replied, covering her face with kisses, 
“ what are you doing here ? ” 

“ I came to see you.” 

“ But your father ? ” 

“ O Frank, my father ! ” she answered, bursting 
into tears, “ he is ill, Frank ; terribly ill with the 
Burning Sickness.” 

“ Sir Luke seized with the plague ! Since when ? ” 

“ This morning. After breakfast he began to 
shiver terribly, and had to return to bed, so bad did 
he feel. Oh ! it is the plague, Frank, — this fearful 
plague ! All the servants have left the house.” 

“ But Laura ? ” 

“ She is with papa, looking after him, and when 
they were in the bedroom together I ran out of the 
house to see you.” 

“ My darling ! if you only knew how I have longed 
for a sight of your dear face. But you look ill and 
worn, Eva! Great Heavens! you have not the 
plague ? ” 


112 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


“ No ! no! not yet, but I shall have it; I know I 
shall have it soon, and then I shall die.” 

“ My dear Eva, you will not die ! ” 

“ How so? There is no cure for this disease.” 

“Yes, there is, and I have the cure ! ” 

“ Frank ! ” 

She gave a cry of joy, and clung frantically round 
his neck in the revulsion of feeling she experienced 
in hearing that there was a chance of escaping this 
dreaded pestilence. The suspense, the anxiety, 
the dread, had all been too much for her delicate 
constitution, and Frank found, to his dismay, that 
she had fainted. 

“ Poor girl ! ” he said to himself, as he rang the 
bell for the servant, and placed her inanimate form 
on the sofa, “ I don’t wonder that she is worn out 
with all this trouble.” 

When the servant appeared, Frank ordered him to 
bring up some wme, and when this was done, filled 
a glass for Eva. The servant paused for a moment 
at the door. 

“ I beg pardon, sir, but it ain’t the plague ? ” 

“ No ! Miss Kernshaw has only fainted. If it were 
the plague I suppose you’d run away. Philips ? ” 

Philips did not reply to this, but the expres- 


THE YEAB OF MIRACLE. 


113 


sion on his face plainly said that such was his 
intention. 

“ More fool you if you did, ” said Frank, coolly 
sprinkling the face of Eva with water. “ There’s 
no place for you to go to, and if you are seized by 
the burning sickness while you are with me, I may 
perhaps cure you. ” 

Philips looked dubious at this, and retired slowly 
shaking his head, while Frank, after some trouble 
managed to revive the girl. 

“ Come, Eva, dear, ” he said, holding the glass to 
her lips. “ Take a little of this port wine and you 
will be all right. ” 

“ No ! no ! ” 

“ Yes ! yes ! Remember I am your doctor now 
as well as your lover, and you must do as I bid 
you. ” 

Thus adjured, Eva drank the wine, and the gen- 
erous liquor soon sent a glow of heat through her 
slender frame. Sitting up, she dried her eyes, and 
leaning on her lover’s shoulder, began to talk 
quickly. 

“ Frank ! you say you can cure the plague. ” 

“ I can. ” 

“ Then cure my father. ” 

8 


114 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


At this Frank looked somewhat doubtful, as there 
was only enough in the phial to cure two people, and 
these he intended to be himself and Eva. 

“ I’m afraid I have not enough of the cure,” he 
said at last in a hesitating manner. “ If I am ill I 
want to cure myself, and if you are seized with the 
plague I want to cure you. ” 

“ But poor papa, Frank ; oh, you must cure poor 
papa. ” 

“ Then one of us must die, ” said Frank, gravely, 
going to his desk. “ See here, Eva, in this little 
phial there is a liquid which will cure the plague, 
but there is just enough lefo for you and me. If I 
could, I would obtain some more, but unfortunately 
I cannot find the man who gave me this cure. If I 
cure your father there will only be enough left for 
you, and if I am seized with the Burning Sickness I 
must die.” 

“ Oh, no, Frank ; you will not die. Cure papa 
and keep the rest of the cure for yourself. I will 
die, not you. ” 

« Then what will life be to me without you ? ” 

“ You will find some one else to love.” 

“Never, Eva! You are the only woman I shall 
ever love.” 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


115 


“But Laura loves you.” 

“ Impossible, my dear Eva,” said Rebelspear, flush- 
ing with vexation. “ Laura knows I am engaged to 
you — that I love you only.” 

“ I know she does, Frank ; and it is that which 
makes her so severe with me. Since she has known 
that she has not been like a sister to me.” 

“ Then be my wife, Eva ; and we will defy both 
your sister and your father.” 

“ But I cannot be your wife in this terrible time.” 

“ Yes, you can ! I will find a clergyman to marry 
us, and then we will try to go to America or the 
Continent.” 

“ But you have no money, Frank.” 

“ Yes, I have. Julian will give me what I want. 
You know I saved his life.” 

“ Then save papa’s, Frank ! ” cried Eva, returning 
to her first idea. “ Do promise to save papa’s life.” 

“ At the risk of my own ? ” 

“ No ! at the risk of mine ! ” 

“ Impossible ! ” 

“ Frank, on my knees I implore you to do so. 
Think of my father lying on his deathbed and you 
can save him, yet will not. Oh, Frank, you have 
a kind heart ! Papa has been cruel to you I know. 


116 


THE TEAR OF MIRACLE. 


but you will save him, Frank! Promise me you 
will.” 

Poor Rebelspear was in a terrible dilemma. If 
he saved Sir Luke, one of them must be sacri- 
ficed. He certainly would not let Eva die, and yet 
he did not want to die himself. At last he thought 
he would try the effect of one drop upon Sir Luke, 
which perhaps might cure him. If it did, there 
would be enough left for himself and Eva, but if it 
did not cure, Eva could not but believe he had done 
his best to help her father. With this idea in his 
mind he raised the weeping girl from the fioor and 
kissed her fondly. 

“ Dry your eyes, my dearest ; I will cure your 
father.” 

“ Oh, my dear, dear Frank ! ” 

She bowed her head on his shoulder, weeping 
tears of joy, while Frank soothed her fondly with 
all those endearments in which lovers delight. Just 
as they were in this position they heard a sneering 
laugh, and both looked up to see Laura Kernshaw 
standing at the door. 

Rebelspear had once seen a pieture of a famous 
actress as Lady Macbeth, waiting for her husband 
while he murdered Duncan, and he was struck by 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 117 

the resemblance which Laura now bore to the 
picture. Her beautiful face bore the impress of a 
vengeful look, and arrayed in her long black cloak, 
with a scarlet ribbon at her throat, and a savage 
look m her eyes, she appeared to be a very danger- 
ous woman. 

“ A pretty tableau indeed,” she cried, with a jeer- 
ing laugh, “ so this is where you are, Eva ! I thought 
as much. Your father is dying, yet from his death- 
bed you come to the arms of your lover.” 

“ Oh ! ” cried Eva, hiding her face with shame at 
the idea, “ what a cruel, cruel, thing to say.” 

“Nevertheless it is true ! ” retorted Laura, coming 
close to the pair, “ deny it if you can.” 

“ I do deny it. What you say is false.” 

“ So you say, I have no doubt. But it is true.” 

“ It is not,” cried Frank, who had hitherto kept 
silence. “ Eva came to me to ask if I could cure 
her father.” 

“ A very good excuse. Dr. Rebelspear, but one 
that will hardly score with me. You cannot cure 
the Burning Sickness.” 

“ I can and will.” 

“ Pardon me if I doubt you ! ” 

Frank darted a look of indignation at her, 


118 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


and pointed to the phial which was lying on 
his desk. 

“ That phial contains the cure,” he said, slowly, 
“ three drops in a glass of water will save anyone 
from this plague, and I am now going with Eva to 
your father in order to cure him.” 

“ I don’t believe you.” 

“That is as you please. Miss Kernshaw; but I 
cured Mr. Delicker with it.” 

Laura looked longingly at the phial as if she 
would like to test the truth of his assertion, and 
then turned savagely upon her sister. 

“ Do you believe this story, Eva? ” 

“ I do ! I believe anything that Frank tells me.” 

“ How blindly in love you are,” retorted Laura, 
biting her lips ; “ however, as I am not so simple, 
I decline to believe in the virtues of this elixir until 
I see it i)ut to the test. Meantime, perhaps, you 
will come with me back to our father’s bedside. Dr. 
Kebelspear can come if he likes.” 

“ And he certainly does like,” said Frank, boldly. 

Laura stamped her foot with rage, and without 
taking any more notice of Frank, advanced towards 
her sister, whom she seized roughly by the arm. 

“ Come at once ! ” 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 119 

Eva uttered a cry of pain, upon which Frank, who 
was putting on his hat, turned round quickly and 
drew her away from the beautiful fury. 

“ I myself will take charge of Eva,” he said, lead- 
ing the girl to the door. “ You can follow. Miss 
Kernshaw, if you like.” 

Thus mockingly repeatmg her own words, he left 
the room with Eva on his arm, and Laura was left 
alone by the desk, with a look of impotent fury 
marring her face. 

“Oh!” she hissed between her clenched teeth, 
“ if I could only kill them both ! If they could be 
stricken by the pestilence, and die at my feet, how 
happy I should be.” 

Meanwhile, Frank and Eva were walking slowly 
along. He was trying to console the sobbing girl, 
who was terribly upset by the way in which her 
sister had treated her. 

“It’s jealousy, Frank, jealousy! she cannot bear 
to see us happy together.” 

“ Never mind, Eva,” he replied, soothingly, “ I 
will marry you after I have cured your father. 
Oh!” 

“ What is the matter ? ” 

“ I have left the phial behind, so I must go back 


120 THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 

for it. Wait here, Eva, I will return in a few min- 
utes.” 

He ran back hastily to his consulting-room and 
found Laura just at the door, evidently leaving the 
house. When she saw him, a flush of joy passed 
over her face, and she laid her hand on his arm. 

“ Frank ! ” she said, imploringly. “ Frank, have 
you come hack for me ? ” 

“ For you,” he repeated indignantly ; “ no, I have 
come back for that phial containing the cure.” 

Brushing hastily past her, he went into the room, 
and picking up the phial, which was still lying on 
the desk, slipped it into his pocket. Laura stood 
where he had left her, biting her under lip ; and as 
he came out of the room once more detained him. 

“ Then you do not love me ? ” 

“ No,” he said, with a gesture of aversion, “ I love 
your sister.” 


CHAPTER XI. 


NEMESIS. 

“As ye have sown so shall ye reap,” came true 
enough to Sir Luke Kernshaw, as he found out 
by hitter experience, for this comparatively early 
death was the outcome of his youthful follies. Had 
he not deeply wronged his old f riend by robbing him 
of his wife, Malister would not have gone to the 
East, and had he not gone to the East he would not 
have brought to London this terrible disease whereof 
his enemy was now dying ; therefore, by the irony 
of fate Kernshaw had, so to speak, brought himself 
to this pass by his own acts. There he lay, the un- 
happy man, an immovable log on his gorgeous bed 
in a darkened room, with the fearful sickness burn- 
ing in his every vein, unable to turn to the right or 
the left, but compelled to lie like Dives amid the 
torments of hell. 

The disease had made considerable progress in a 
short space of time, owing to his enfeebled body, 
and although speech was still left to him, yet even 


121 


122 


THE YEAH OF MIRACLE. 


that was now becoming thick and indistinct. All 
the servants had fled in terror from the house at the 
first whisper of the plague, his daughters had both 
disappeared, and Kernshaw lay in agony, apparently 
deserted by God and man. 

All around him spoke of wealth ; the rich carpets 
soft to the foot and pleasant to the eye, the delicately 
tinted hangings, the thousand and one objects of art 
and luxury which filled the chamber. All these met 
his languid eye as he stared vaguely through the 
semi-twilight of the room. He was rich, he was 
lying amid his riches, yet they could not save him. 
N'o ! the Burning Sickness had him in its fatal grip, 
and every breath of the warm summer air wafted 
in through the windows was impregnated with the 
venom of the plague, while he, robbed of all motion 
by the distemper, could not rise and flee from this 
splendid sepulchre. 

Lymg there with a feeling as if he were wrapped 
in burning flames, Kernshaw, staring through the 
dim twilight, saw as in a dream all the events^ of his 
past life rise up before him, and Conscience, cruel 
showman to this wild phantasmagoria, sat by his 
pillow, explaining each event that pictured itself on 
the thin air. 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


123 


“ Do you remember those days,” whispered 
Conscience, as two merry lads appeared, “ schoolfel- 
lows, both — are they not happy ? Do they not love 
one another ? They are to be friends for life, you 
know. The Orestes and Pylades of modern days. 
Do you remember them ? ” 

“ Too well, too well,” groaned Sir Luke, in bitter 
anguish. 

“ See now, they are both grown up, and still their 
friendship in the world is as true as their friendship 
at school. Now, one of them goes a woomg — is it 
you or your boy friend? You know best. Do you 
see the fair wife that your friend has won? Yes, 
you do. They live in paradise, and you, O serpent ! 
masking your lust under the guise of friendship, 
watch for an opportunity to destroy that paradise.” 

“No more ! oh, no more ! ” 

“ See how you come like a thief in the night,” 
pursues Conscience, relentlessly, “and steal away 
your friend’s wife. You are happy for a time, but 
behold the wages of sin. Ah, yes, she died in your 
arms, and the child is left with you to guard it. 
This is the one good deed of your life : you save the 
child. And now, see yourself rich, married, happy 
with a fair wife and child. All is well with 


124 THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 

you, as the world thinks, hut for many a year I 
have sat as I sit now, whispering to you of your 
evil past.” 

“ Forgive me.”. 

“No one can forgive you but the man whom you 
have wronged. See, here he comes, old, frail, 
broken down — your work. That eye once beaming 
with sanity now gleams with fire of madness — your 
work. Fallen, despised, hated, feared — all your 
work.” 

“ Malister ! ” 

Was it indeed Malister who stood silently upon 
the threshold of the chamber of death, with a look 
of triumph in his wild eyes — or still the phantom of 
his imagination conjured up by conscience ? No, it 
was Malister in fiesh and blood ! Malister the 
fanatic ! Malister the avenger ! Malister the mad- 
man, who had now come to gloat over the victim 
whom his hand had stricken thus to the dust ! 

With terrified eyes Kernshaw saw the fanatic 
approach his couch, and stand over him with folded 
arms. He was completely at the mercy of the man 
whom he had wronged. Chained to his bed by the 
fever, paralysed by the plague, without power to 
move l^and or foot, with hardly the capability to 


THE YEAH OF MIRACLE, 125 

articulate a word, he lay there prostrate under the 
eye of his enemy, waiting— waiting for his punish- 
ment. 

“ So, Luke,” said Malister, in his deep harsh tones, 
this is the end of all your wickedness. ‘ The 

wages of sin is death ! ’ Ah ! you know it now 

now that the world you loved is passing away from 
you. Ho ! Dives, do you not already in your body 
feel the torments of hell ? ” 

“ Mercy, mercy ! ” 

“ Such mercy as you gave to me I bestow upon 
you. I was happy, and you destroyed my happi- 
ness. I trusted you, and you betrayed me. I loved 
my wife, and you stole her from me. I had a dear 
little daughter, you took her away. Traitor ! liar ! 
dastard ! — where is my lost happiness ? — where is 
my wife ? — where is my child ? Answer ! ” 

The pale lips of the dying man made some move- 
ment, but the keen ears of Malister could detect no 
sound. Filled with fury at the sight of his enemy, 
all the repressed rancour of years s’welled in his 
breast, and he shook the dying man violently with 
a jeer on his furious lips. 

“ Liar ! traitor ! answer ! My happiness is lost — 
I know that. My wife is dead, as you soon will be, 


126 


THE YEAR OF MIBACLE. 


I trust ; but my child — what about my child, you 
perjured traitor ? ” 

“ Lives,” whispered Sir Luke, with a great effort. 

“ My child lives, she lives ! ” cried Malister in a 
tone of joy. “ Where is she? where is she?” 

« There ! ” 

As the words fell reluctantly from his hot dry 
lips, his eyes turned towards the door of the room, 
and there on the threshold stood two women — both 
young, both beautiful — but one was as fair as the 
day — the other as dark as the night. 

“ My daughter ! my daughter ! ” cried Malister, 
rushing towards them with outstretched arms, 
“ which of you is my daughter ? ” 

Both the girls looked at this strange being in 
silent surprise — looked past him to the silent figure 
lying on the bed as if seeking for an explanation, and 
there was a dead silence for a moment, broken sud- 
denly by a cry of triumph as Dr. Rebelspear sprang 
forward to confront the man for whom he had sought 
so long in vain. 

“ Malister ! ” he cried, seizing the fanatic by the 
wrist. “ Fiend ! demon that you are ! can you not 
stay this plague which you have created ? ” 

“ No ! My mission is to destroy, not to save.” 


THE YE An OF MIRACLE. 127 

“ But look at the misery you have created among 
the people.” 

“ It is the fruit of which they themselves have 
sown the seed.” 

“Is there no means of staying this plague ? ” 

“ None ! I have no more of the elixir. The der- 
vish only gave me one phial, and that I handed to 
you. In due time the hand of the Lord will save 
the remnant that survive. To-day and to-morrow 
are in the hands of God. Blessed he the name of 
the Lord.” 

“ O, Frank,” cried Eva, who was kneeling beside 
the bedside of Sir Luke, “ he is dying — save him ! 
— save my father ! ” 

“ He is not your father,” said Malister, walking 
across the room to the kneeling girl. 

“Not my father ! What do you mean? ” 

“ I mean that one of you two girls is my daughter, 
stolen from me by that villain who is dying there.” 

“Respect the dying,” cried Frank, in a tone of 
entreaty. 

“ Respect him ! Respect the man who robbed 
me of my wife and child,” said Malister, in a tone 
of scorn. “ Let him make restitution for all he has 
taken away. Let him give me back my years of 


128 


TRE YEAR OF 311 RAGLE. 


happiness — my wife, true and faithful — my daugh- 
ter, and then I will respect him.” 

“ This man is mad,” said Laura, in a cold tone, 
moving tall and stately between the destroyer and 
his victim ; “ let him leave this room.” 

“ Mad ! yes, I am mad with misery ! ” retorted 
Malister, still keej)ing his position ; “ but do not 
speak to me like this. You may be my daughter.” 

“ I am not your daughter.” 

“ Then it is you,” said the fanatic, turning to 
Eva. 

“No! no!” she said hurriedly, shrinking back, 
“ this is my father who is dying. O, Frank, give 
him the elixir, and save his life ? ” 

“ The elixir ! ” repeated Malister, recoiling, with a 
sudden frown on his wrinkled face. 

“Yes; you forgot that!” said Frank, producing 
the phial from his pocket. “ See, this is what will 
save your victim at the eleventh hour.” 

“ So be it,” answered the fanatic, in a similar 
tone. “ If it be the will of the Lord that he should 
live he shall live ; but let him tell me the name of 
my daughter.” 

No one made any reply to this demand, and 
Frank busied himself with preparing the elixir. 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


129 


Having dropped one drop, which was all that he 
could spare, into a glass of water, he was alarmed 
to see that the liquid did not change to its usual red 
colour. 

“ Three drops ! three drops ! ” said Malister 
quickly, upon which Ilebelspear looked at him in- 
credulously. 

“ I thought you wanted him to die.” 

“ I want him to tell me the name of my daughter,” 
replied the fanatic, evasively ; “ hut he cannot speak 
— revive him with that cure, and he will do so. If 
he lives I say nothing — if he dies I say nothing — 
to-day and to-morrow are in the hands of God.” 

Rebelspear looked at Eva, and hesitated whether 
to use any more of the precious liquid, hut the look 
of agony on her face decided him and he dropped 
two more drops into the glass. The water changed 
to a pale red, but nothing like the deep colour as in 
his former experiment, which somewhat perplexed 
him. Still, nothing more could be done, so he 
hastily held the glass to the dry lips of the baronet 
and drew back to watch the effect. 

Laura, Eva, and Rebelspear were all standing 
close round the bed, but Malister thrust them fiercely 

back and bent over his enemy. 

9 


130 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


“ Tell me the name of my daughter — quick — 
quick ! ” 

Sir Luke opened his eyes, which had closed for a 
moment, and his sallow cheeks became tinged with 
red, then with a cry of anguish he raised his head 
and looked wildly around. 

“Eva! Eva!” 

Malister turned towards the fair-haired girl with 
a cry of joy, but at this moment Kernshaw fell back 
on his pillow — dead. 

The elixir had failed in its effect, on seeing which 
the fanatic appeared transfixed with astonishment. 

“ Dead ! ” he muttered, in horror, bending over the 
still form of his enemy, “ dead ! — the elixir ! — why, 
what does it mean?” 

“ I know no more than you,” replied Frank, who 
had turned pale with fear, “ it cured once, but this 
time — well, you can see for yourself.” 

Malister flung up his hands with a cry of anger. 

“ That cursed dervish, he has deceived me ! ” 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE AGONY OF DE. RKBELSPEAR. 

Rebelspear returned home in a state of great per- 
plexity, being much in doubt as to his future move- 
ments. He could do nothing at present with Eva, 
as she steadfastly refused to leave the body of the 
dead man until it received decent burial; and as 
Laura was there to keep her company, Frank came 
back to his house in order to consult Delicker. The 
fanatic, filled with joy at having discovered his 
daughter, also remained in the house of death, 
although Frank tried to get him away. 

“Xo, ” he said fiercely, resisting the entreaties of 
the young doctor, “ the jewel that was lost is found 
again. Heaven has given me my reward for carry- 
ing out my mission, and I lose not sight of my re- 
ward.” 

So in grim silence remained Matthew Malister in 
the house of his enemy, gloating over his newly 

131 


132 


THE YEAU OF MIRACLE. 


found child; and Frank ran back to Weymouth 
Street in the hope that Delicker had returned from 
his self-imposed mission of seeking Malister. The 
consulting- room was empty, however, when he ar- 
rived ; and on asking the servant, he learned that 
Julian was still absent, so he sat wearily down at 
his desk heart-sick with anxiety and dread. 

The afternoon was oppressively hot — so hot, in- 
deed, that London seemed to be one vast furnace ; 
but on the verge of the western horizon loomed a 
mighty black cloud, above which blazed the sun in 
intolerable brilliancy. If only the rain would come 
and drench the pestilent-stricken air for many 
days, the plague might abate ; but while this ter- 
rible burning heat continued, the germs of the sick- 
ness multijgjied with alarming rapidity, and every 
breath drawn by humanity sucked in the deadly 
poison. A gentle wind was blowing westward 
through the plague-cursed city, and seated in his 
consulting-room Rebelspear could hear the ^feeble 
cries of the dying, and the riotous songs of those 
who tried to forget their terrors in revelry. 

He felt dull and depressed, then a shivering fit 
seized him, and he shook as if he had the ague, but 
pressing his hands to his burning brow he gazed at 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


133 


the phial he held in his hands, wondering why it had 
failed to cure Sir Luke. It was most unaccount- 
able this failure, as certainly the same dose had 
snatched Delicker back from the jaws of death, and 
then the difference in the crimson colour puzzled 
him. When he had given it to Delicker the tint 
was a deep ruby, but when he held it to the fevered 
lips of Sir Luke, the water was of a pale-looking hue 
— most strange and inexplicable. 

The bells of the churcli near him began to ring in 
a mournful fashion, which irritated liim extremely, 
although the reflection that every stroke lieralded 
the last gasp of some unhappy wretch ought to 
have inclined him to gentler and more melancholy 
thoughts. But he felt strangely irritable and per- 
plexed — irritated by the absence of Delicker, and 
perplexed by the thought of Eva turnmg out to be 
Mails ter’s daughter. 

Again the shivering fit came on, and this time he 
was seized with a hideous dread that he had fallen 
a victim to the plague. With a cry of alarm he 
arose from his seat, feeling curiously weak, and 
staggered rather than walked across the room to 
the mirror hanging over the fireplace. One glance 
told him all — his face was deeply red — his eyes 


134 the year of miracle. 

were dull and heavy — his lips dry and cracked — he 
had the Burning Sickness. 

With a shriek of horror, he touched the ivory 
button of the electric bell, and as its shrill summons 
rung through the house, he felt his limbs giving 
way under him, and in another moment he was 
lying on the floor without the power to move hand 
or foot. In answer to the bell his servant ran hastily 
into the room and recoiled in terror when he saw 
his master lying motionless on the floor. 

“ Oh, sir, is it — is it ” 

“ The plague ! ” gasped Rebelspear, “ the plague.” 

Selfish thoughts for his own safety overcame all 
feelings of humanity in the breast of the man, 
and he turned quickly to leave, when Rebelspear 
gave such a cry of anguish that he involuntarily 
stayed. 

“ Don’t go ! don’t go ! — you can cure me.” 

“ Cure you, sir ? Impossible ! ” 

“ See on the table that phial — pour three drops 
into a glass of water — it will save my life.” 

With a bound the man was at the desk and 
seized the phial, but not to obey his master. No ! 
He placed the phial in his pocket in order to secure 
his own safety in case of seizure, and fled from the 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 135 

room, pursued by the curses of the mtan he had 
deserted so basely. 

“ Oh, villain, villain ! ” moaned Rebelspear in 
agony, “ to leave me thus — Eva ! Eva ! She will be 
lost, and I — I shall die here like a dog, with no one 
to aid me. Eva ! Julian ! Malister, help me ! — help ! ” 

It was useless crying like this, as he well knew ; 
for, no one having the elixir, no one could help him ; 
but he wanted some human being near him to soothe 
his dying moments, and therefore called vainly on 
the woman he loved. 

“ Eva ! Eva ! I am dying ! — Eva ! ” 

He heard the door open slowly, but owing to his 
position could see nothing. All his limbs were quite 
paralysed, and his body was burning with heat, so 
that he lay immovable on the floor listening in an 
agony of expectation to the entrance of the new- 
comer. The rustle of a dress caught his ear, and he 
uttered a cry of joy. 

“Eva!”' 

“ It is not Eva.” 

The woman swept into the middle of the room, 
and there, tall and stately as ever, with a scornful 
light in her dark eyes, stood Laura Kernshaw look- 
ing down at him as he lay like a dog at her feet. 


136 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


“ Miss Kernshaw ! ” 

“ Yes, Laura Kernshaw, who has come to bring 
you life — or death.” 

« What do you mean ? ” 

“I mean that I can save you on conditions.” 

“ Save me ! Impossible ! The elixir is gone ! ” 

“ The elixir is not gone ! ” she replied, coldly, 
drawing a small bottle from her pocket ; “ it is 
here ! ” 

“ You have taken it from Philips,” he cried, joy- 
fully ; “ he stole it from me ! ” 

“No, I have not taken it from Philips ! He may 
have stolen the phial, as you say, but he did not steal 
the elixir.” 

“ I — I don’t understand,” he groaned in agony, 
rolling his head from side to side on the carpet — “ I 
don’t understand ! ” 

“ Listen, then, Frank Rebelspear, lying there smit- 
ten by the plague, nor set yourself again against the 
wit of a woman. When you left this room to-day 
with my sister, 1 saw the phial lying on the table — 
you had told me of its virtues — and was minded to 
try them ; so I got a bottle from yonder cabinet and 
poured the contents of the phial into it. Then I re- 
placed the true elixir with pure water and left it in 


THE TEAR OF MIRACLE. 


137 


its old position. You returned and took it, but you 
carried away only pure water, so now you know the 
reason you could not cure Sir Luke Kernshaw.” 

This then was the reason that the water had only 
become tinged with a pale red when he used the 
elixir for Sir Luke. The pure water put into the 
original phial by Laura had become impregnated with 
the thin film of the powerful liquid which still clung 
to the sides of the bottle, but being thus weakened 
had not been able to act with its full virtue. As this 
explanation passed across his mind he gave a cry of 
despair. 

“ Witch ! demon ! your own father.” 

“ He is not my father ! ” 

“ He is ! Eva is Malister’s daughter.” 

“ So he thinks, but it is not so. When Sir Luke 
died his last cry was for his daughter Eva, and as it 
came apparently in answer to Malister’s question, 
he thought it was the truth. I am Matthew Malis- 
ter’s daughter, and I have known it for many years, 
so you see I was not so criminal as you suppose in 
letting Sir Luke die.” 

“ Ungrateful ! when he was so good to you.” 

“ Good to me,” she repeated, in supreme scorn. 
“ Yes ; he ruined my mother — he betrayed my 


138 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


father, and thought to expiate his sin by bringing 
me up as his own child. Fool that he was ! I was 
appointed to revenge the past, and I did so by letting 
him die when I could have saved him.” 

“ God ! are you human ? ” 

“In my love for you ; yes.” 

“ What do you mean ? I am dying ! the plague 
has seized me, and yet you talk of your love. Oh, I 
am suffering the tortures of hell. I burn ! I burn ! ” 

“Aye, and you shall burn until you say you 
love me.” 

“Never! never! Love you — a woman who has 
let her adopted father die.” 

“ Say, rather, who has avenged her mother. This 
is no time for fine speeches. Dr. Rebelspear. You 
are lying there in the grip of death! You cannot 
live more than twelve hours, and you will pass 
those twelve hours in agony. From that agony, 
from that death, I can save you.” 

“ And you will— you will ! ” he said, imploringly, 
turning his eloquently pathetic eyes upon her cold 
face. 

For answer she flung herself on her knees beside 
him and took his aching head tenderly on her lap. 

“ My best beloved,” she said, in a sweet slow voice. 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 139 

“ I will save you to be rich and honoured and happy 
— with me.” 

“ With you? ” 

“Yes! Do you not see how I love you — how I 
worship you. Frank, since I first saw you I have 
loved you. You are more to me than my good name 
— than my life — than my soul. O, Frank, my dar- 
ling, say you will be my husband, and I will take 
you out of this hell wherein you are lying.” 

Her tears fell fast from her now tender eyes and 
rained down on his burning cheeks, but with a great 
effort he jerked his head off her lap with a cry of rage 
and scorn. 

“Marry you! be your hjisband! devil that you 
are, rather will I lie here until I die.” 

“ Frank ! ” 

“ A woman who could act as you have done — who 
could let her adopted father die ! O God ! the 
horror of it. Kernshaw betrayed your mother, but 
he was just to you — he ruined your father, but he 
was just to you. By falsehood and treachery you 
have stolen that which would have saved him, and 
now— now you come to me and ask me to be your 
husband.” 

“ Frank ! Frank ! do not be so cruel. See, T that 


140 THE YEAB OF MIRACLE, 

have knelt to no one — not even to Heaven — am 
kneeling by your side. Promise that you will be my 
husband and I will give you this elixir! I will 
save your life, and together we will leave this fated 
city.” 

“No! no! no! ” 

“ As you are a man, listen ! I have money — plenty 
of money. It is true I am the daughter of Matthew 
Malister, but it is also true that I am the co-heiress 
with Eva of Luke Kernshaw. Let me save you and 
we will take this money, and go.” 

“ Go ! go ! but alone.” 

“ You will not let me help you? ” 

“ Not at the price you ask.” 

She sprang to her feet with tears of rage in her 
eyes. 

“ Am I so old and ugly that I am loathsome m 
your sight? I am as beautiful as Eva ! ” 

“ I love Eva.” 

“ And you do not love me.” 

“ No ! ” 

“ Beware ! Frank Rebelspear,” she said in a tone 
of menace, “ your life is in my hands.” 

“ My life is in the hands oh God.” 

“ Call upon God and see whether He will save you.” 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 141 

“ If it is by His will He will save me — even from 
you.” 

“ I will give you one last chance. I have abused 
my pride for you. I have overstepped the bounds 
of a woman’s modesty in my strong love for a mau 
who does not deserve to have it ! ” 

“ I do not desire it ! I love Eva ! ” 

“ You will not love me, nor will you love Eva. 
Oh, poor thing, you are to cast away the chance 
of life for a fancy.” 

“ Go, go ! ” he moaned, piteously, “ leave me to 
die in peace.” 

“ I will not ! See ! ” 

She placed the little bottle close to his lips as he 
lay on the floor, and laughed tauntingly. 

“ There is your life ; it is yours on the condition I 
have mentioned.” 

“ Fiend that you are to torture me so ; I will not 
yield — I will not yield ! If I die, I die ; but never 
will I be your husband.” 

“ Think of your coming agonies.” 

“ I can bear them — for Eva’s sake.” 

“ Eva ! Eva ! always Eva ! I tell you Eva is lost 
to you ! She has the plague.” 

“ It’s a lie.” 


142 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


“ It’s the truth ! After you left to-day she was 
seized, and my father is kneeling beside her, think- 
ing she is his daughter. She is lost ! I still live. 
Take life from my hands and I will spare you.” 

“ Never. I lose Eva, I lose all. If I lose my life, 
I lose all — your words confirm my determination. 
She will die with me, and we 'will meet in another 
, world far beyond the reach of your malice.” 

“ You will not be my husband ? ” 

“ No ! no ! a thousand times, no ! ” 

“ Then die.” 

She walked proudly to the door, leaving him 
lying in agony on the floor, and paused a moment 
on the threshold. 

“ I will give you one more chance.” 

“ Torture me not. I refuse ! ” 

“ Coward ! traitor ! then die in your folly. Eva 
will never be yours, and you will both be buried in 
a dishonoured grave.” 

“ Happier fate than being with you.” 

She paused a moment irresolutely on the thres- 
hold, then bursting into a peal of mocking laughter, 
fled, leaving the man, now about to die, alone. 


CHAPTER XTII. 


BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH. 

The hot afternoon wore slowly away, and still Frank 
Rebelspear, alone in his misery, lay on the floor of 
his consulting-room burning with the fever of the 
pestilence. Never did time seem to pass so slowly, 
and every second, ticked out by the clock on the 
mantelpiece, seemed like an eternity to this hapless 
human being, helpless in the deadly grip of the 
plague. Neither hand nor foot could he move, not 
a limb could he stir, and at last he was unable to ‘ 
move his head, so there he lay, powerless to aid him- 
self, and powerless to call others to his aid. 

Would Delicker never return ? He had now been 
out nearly all day searching for Malister, and surely 
he must have given up the quest long ago, or else — 
horrible thought ! — he had again been seized by the 
Burning Sickness, and was perhaps lying in agony 
in the ghastly graveyard of the streets. But no, it 


143 


144 


THE YEAB OF MIRACLE. 


was impossible! the plague would not seize him 
again. He would return shortly — return to save his 
unhappy friend from death. 

No, that could not be ! no one could save him ex- 
cept Laura Kernshaw, and she had vanished for ever, 
taking with her the precious draught which would 
have given him life. Eva also was dying and he 
could not save her. Fool that he was to reveal the 
virtues of the elixir and trust to the honour of hu- 
manity in this crisis of the world’s history. He had 
unwittingly deceived his servant that the original 
phial contained the elixir, and the servant had 
treacherously fled with it. He had seen the real 
cure in the hand of Laura Kernshaw, and because he 
refused to accept her love and surrender Eva she 
had left him to perish in torments worse than those 
of the Inquisition. Oh, it was terrible to die like 
this — alone ! unfriended ! with no one to give him a 
drop of water to quench his burning thirst ; no one 
to close his eyes when he died. He must die ! he 
must die, and then 

But no ! Hope, the good fairy, who had fled from 
the Weymouth Street house on the fatal night when 
Malister first revealed his terrible mission, now re- 
turned to comfort the unhappy man. It was true 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


145 


that the elixir was gone, hut in yonder cabinet was 
the glass containing the draught which he had pre- 
pared in order to see the nature of the cure. He 
had placed it there and forgotten all about it. Now 
he was safe if he could only reach the cabinet and 
drink the life-giving liquid. But how was he to 
reach the cabmet ? He was powerless to move, and ly- 
ing on the floor, only a few steps separated him from 
1 ife ; yet these few steps he was unable to take. It 
was terrible thus to perish, so to speak, within sight 
of land. Yonder was the cabinet containing the al- 
ready prepared draught, and here he lay, a helpless 
log, unable to help himself in any way whatsoever. 
His brain was clear, but his limbs were paralysed, 
and he felt as if he were in one of those horrible 
trances which entail burial alive. 

If he could only call aid ; but that was impossible ; 
the disease had now seized his throat, and already 
his voice was hoarse and broken. Besides, if he did 
call out ifc would be no use. The servants had all 
fled from the plague-stricken house, and he was left • 
to die alone ! Die ! no, he would not die ! his life 
was in that cabinet, but it was as far away from him 
in his helplessness as if separated by leagues of roar- 
ing sea. 


10 


146 


THE TEAB OF MIRACLE. 


With a violent effort he tried to shriek, but only 
a hoarse, broken murmur issued from his lips, which 
could hardly be heard, so all he could do was to lie 
there speechless, motionless, consumed as with fire, 
and with his eyes fixed in despair on the mahogany 
cabinet near the writing-table, the cabinet which 
contained his life. 

The wind was rising, and he could hear it blowing 
shrilly through the windows and round the house. 
Its cold breath, laden with moisture, touched his 
burning forehead like a gentle hand, and he saw that 
the sunlight was dying away, while the blue spot of 
sky, seen through the window, became black with 
clouds. A change had taken place in the weather 
— the intense heat of the past two months was at an 
end ; and now there came a cold wind — soon there 
would come the rain, and perchance the plague would 
be swept away from the ill-fated city. But of what 
use was it to him — he was dying — he would die, and 
and no one could save him from his fate. 

• “ Julian ! ” 

With preternaturally sharp hearing he caught the 
sound of Delicker’s light steps bounding up the 
stairs, and in another moment his friend was in the 
room. For the space of a minute he stood looking 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


147 


at the still figure lying on the floor ; and then with a 
cry of bitter anguish he sprang forward and flung 
himself on his knees beside his dying friend. 

“ Frank ! Frank ! Has the plague seized you at 
last. O, my poor fellow ! where is the elixir you 
cured me with ? Quick ! quick ! I will give it to 
you at once.” 

Rebelspear could make no answer, owing to the 
paralysis of his throat, and could only look at the 
anxious face of the young man with a look of dumb 
agony. 

“ Can you not speak ? ” cried Delicker, in despair. 
“ Great heavens ! you must have been hours like 
this. All the servants are gone, I suppose. If I 
could only find that phial.” 

Delicker wrung his hands in despair, for he did 
not know where to look for the phial which he 
supposed was still in Frank’s possession, and Frank 
could not tell him in any way, neither by writing 
nor by speaking, seeing that the paralysis of the 
disease had rendered useless both his throat and 
hands. With the hope of despair Julian sprang to 
his feet and began to search about the room, look- 
ing everywhere except — by some strange chance — 
in the cabinet. Frank saw him searching — knew 


148 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


where the cure was, yet was compelled to lie there 
speephless and immovable, without having the 
power to direct his friend where to look. 

“ My God ! ” cried Julian, in despair, looking at 
the still figure, “ what am I to do ? ” 

He searched again and again, even opened the 
cabinet ; but as he was hunting for the phial he 
naturally looked for it and quite passed over 
the glass of red water standing on the lower shelf. 
Kebelspear saw him leave the cabinet with a feel- 
ing of despair, and gave himself up for lost. Julian, 
desisting from his useless search, flung himself on 
his knees by his friend, and looked steadily at the 
sick man’s eyes. A sudden idea had struck him of 
applying the system in Dumas’s novel, “ Monte 
Christo,” by which Noirtier, the old paralytic, is 
made to express his meaning by raising and lower- 
ing his eyelids. 

“ Frank,” said Julian, “do you remember Noirtier 
in ‘ Monte Cristo,’ how he made known his wishes 
by his eyes ? If you can use your eyelids, answer 
me in the same way. Close your eyes for ‘ yes ’ 
and leave them open for ‘no.’ Do you under- 
stand ? ” 

Frank closed his eyes, upon which Julian gave a 


TUE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 149 

cry of joy, and began to interpret rapidly according 
to the “ yes ” or “ no ” of the eyes. 

“ Good ! the paralysis has not yet affected your 
eyelids. Now, tell me — is the phial in your pocket ? 
No. Is it in the desk ? No. Is it in the room ? 
No. Why ! ” cried Julian, in surprise, “ what does 
this mean ? Not in the room ! have you lost it ? ” 
Frank closed his eyes again, to signify yes, and 
Julian sprang to his feet in dismay. 

“ Lost ! ” he said in alarm. “ Great heavens ! then 
you cannot be saved? ” 

The sick man closed his eyes once more. 

“What, have you another phial? No! Well, 
then, you cannot be cured! Yes. You say yes. 
Why, what does he mean?” muttered Julian in 
perplexity, looking round the room. “ If the phial 
is lost, I certainly can’t save him.” 

He looked again at the sick man, but saw that his 
eyes were looking past him, upon which he suddenly 
turned round to see upon what the gaze was fixed. 

“The desk? No. The window? No. The 
cabinet? Yes. Ah, there is something in the 
cabinet ; but I looked there, and found nothing.” 

He rapidly began to take the medicine bottles out 
of the cabinet. 


150 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


“This? No. This? No. This? No. Why, 
Frank, there are no more bottles. Is it a bottle ? No. 
Then, what is it? A powder? No. A draught? 
Yes. In a glass? Yes. Ah!” cried Julian in a 
tone of joy, “ is this it ?” and he held out the glass 
filled with the red liquid to Frank. 

“Yes,” said the eyes in the most eloquent man- 
ner ; and with a cry of delight Julian knelt down 
beside his friend and held the draught to his lips. 
Rebelspear drained it to the last drop, and then fell 
into a deep sleep, upon seeing which Julian lifted 
him in his arms and placed him gently on the sofa, 
then sat down beside him, in order to watch. 

The darkness fell at last over the hot, dry earth, 
but now the cool gloom was damp with moisture, 
and the wind was bio whig boisterously. As Julian 
sat by the sofa in the darkness, he could hear the 
fierce blasts rushing madly down the street, and on 
going to the window he saw that the sky was filled 
with flying clouds, rushing across the pale moon, 
the bright stars, and the fierce blaze of the comet. 
The long street was quite deserted ; the gas lamps 
were not lighted, nor was there any sound of traffic 
or of human voices. It was truly terrible — this 
silence in the mighty city, and the wailing wind 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


151 


sweeping down the empty streets seemed to lament 
for the dead who had been slain hy the sword of 
the pestilence. 

The comet seemed paler than before, so, without 
doubt, it was receding from the earth, and Julian 
put up a prayer — yes, this scoffer and unbeliever put 
up a prayer — that with the comet might pass the 
scourge of the Burning Sickness. Formerly he had 
not believed in the existence of a God ; hut, since his 
escape from death, his thoughts had taken a new 
turn, and he was sceptical no longer ; and here in 
the midst of the terrible desolation of London, he 
knelt hy the window with a prayer on his lips that 
God would not utterly destroy the metropolis of 
the world. 

Frank was breathing regularly and gently, which 
Julian judged to be a good sign, and on placing his 
hand upon the sick man’s forehead he found it cov- 
ered with a profuse perspiration, so he felt sure that 
the elixir had done its work, and the Burning Sick- 
ness had left his friend. 

With waiting, watching, and anxiety, he was 
quite worn out, so he took a glass of wine and some 
biscuits, after which he felt better, then returning 
to his post by the sofa, he remained watching all 


152 


THE YEAB OF MIBACLE. 


the night by Rehelspear’s side. The heavy hours 
rolled slowly by, the gloom deepened, the gloom 
lightened, and lo ! in the sombre sky burned the 
crimson splendours of the dawn. The wind, still 
increasing, was now blowing a gale, and every blast 
seemed to shake the house, while Julian could hear 
the falling of tiles and chimney-pots, wrenched off 
by the force of the hurricane. 

One fierce burst shook the house to its foundations, 
then for a moment there was a dead stillness, in the 
midst of which Frank awoke, and smiled gratefully 
on the man who had saved him. 

“I am cured of the plague,” he said, quietly; 
“ give me some wine, Julian, and I will tell you all 
I have suffered.” 


CHAPTER XIV. 


FOUND AND LOST. 

“ Good heavens ! ” cried Julian, when Frank had 
related to him the strange experiences of the pre- 
vious day, “ what a fiend of a woman ! I certainly 
don’t envy Malister his newly-found daughter.” 

“ But you forget, Malister looks upon Eva as his 
daughter.” 

“ True ! Now, of course you will undeceive him, 
Frank?” 

Rebelspear walked thoughtfully across to the win- 
dow, and looked out at the lonely street. A little 
way along lay the body of some poor wretch who, 
having been seized with the Burning Sickness, had 
fallen to the ground and died where he had fallen. 
Above, a dull, grey sky ; below, the dull grey earth ; 
and lying there in that dreary solitude, the lonely 
corpse, with its ghastly face turned appealingly to 
the sombre heavens. It was truly a terrible scene, 

153 


154 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


and one which Rebelspear in after years never for- 
got. He was not thinking of the scene at present, 
however, but meditating over the question Julian 
had ]3ut to him. 

“ No,” he said at last, in a low voice. “ I don’t 
think I will undeceive him.” 

“ And why not ? ” 

“ Malister thinks Eva is his daughter, and Laura 
say^ Eva has been seized by the plague, so, in that 
case, her supposed father will do all he can to save 
her.” 

“ But how can he save her ? ” 

“ By giving her the elixir, of course.” 

“ You forget Laura has the elixir.” 

“ Of course ; but I hardly think Malister would 
have parted entirely with his only hope of safety. 
No; you may be sure, Julian, that he has more of 
that elixir ; and if — as Laura said — Eva has been 
seized with the plague, he will cure her.” 

“ I don’t believe what Laura says,” said Julian, 
impetuously ; “ very likely she told you Eva was 
stricken only to cause you more pain in thinking 
you could not aid her. However, as — according to 
Laura —twelve hours have passed since Eva was 
seized she must, if that is true, be dead by this time.” 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


155 


“ I am sure Malister will save her,” said Frank, 
hopefully ; “ but if I were to tell him that Laura is 
his daughter, he would take no trouble with Eva, 
particularly as she is the child of his bitterest enemy ; 
so I will keep silence. And you too, Julian, say 
nothing.” 

“ Oh, I will not open my mouth ; hut I think the 
best thing we can do is to go at once and see after 
Eva.” 

“ First, however, we must have breakfast. I feel 
faint for want of food.” 

“ You are not a very ardent lover, Frank,” said 
Julian, in a tone of faint reproach. 

“I can do no good,” replied Frank, drearily. 
“ God knows I love Eva dearer than my own life ; 
but Laura has robbed me of the means of saving 
her. If she is seized by the plague she must die — 
unless, indeed, Malister saves her, as he will cer- 
tainly do.” 

“ Provided he has another phial of the elixir,” said 
Delicker, significantly. 

Frank nodded languidly, and they went down to 
the kitchen in order to search for some food. The 
terrible experience through which he had passed 
had quite worn out the young doctor, and he moved 


156 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


about in a listless, weary fashion, which caused 
Julian serious uneasiness. 

“Good Lord! Frank, do try to pull yourself 
together,” he said, when they were seated at a 
hastily provided meal ; “ you seem to have lost 
all interest in life.” 

“ I feel worn out after last night, Julian ; but 
when I have had some food I shall be all right.” 

“ Frank, my poor fellow, you are fretting about 
Eva.” 

“ True, I feel that I cannot help her if she is 
plague- stricken.” 

“ I tell you I don’t believe that. It is a fiendish 
device of that woman’s to torture you. Look here, 
my boy, you doctors don’t know how to trust your- 
selves. Come upstairs now we have finished, and 
have a good glass of wine to revive you.” 

Rebelspear agreed to this and they slowly 
returned to the consulting-room. When approaching 
it they heard a low, wailing cry which froze the 
blood in their veins. 

“Why, what is that?” gasped Julian, standing 
suddenly still. 

“ Eva, Eva ! ” cried Rebelspear, his thoughts at 
once reverting to the woman he loved, and without 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 157 

another word he hastily mounted the remaining steps 
and dashed into the consulting-room. 

“ Malister ! ” 

It was indeed Malister who stood there, looking 
more shadowy than ever, with a wild look on his 
face, as the wind fluttered his loose black garments. 
On seeing Frank he sprang forward with another 
cry, but this time one of joy, and laid his claw-like 
hands on the arm of the astonished young man. 

“ Where is it ? where is it ? ” 

“What?” 

“ The cure ! the phial ! I want it for my daughter, 
for Eva.” 

“ Is she dead ? ” shrieked Rebelspear, in despair. 

“ Dead ! 'No I But she soon will be. She was 
seized with the plague this morning.” 

‘•Not last night? ” 

“ No ; she has only been ill an hour.” 

“Thank Heaven!” cried Julian, with a sigh of 
relief ; “ there is still time ; but why don’t you cure 
her, Malister ? ” 

“ I ?” wailed the fanatic. “ I would cure her if I 
could, but I cannot.” 

“ You have not another phial of the elixir?” said 
Frank, his face growing grey with anguish. 


158 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


“ No ! no ! I gave you all I had. Heaven help me ! 
I never thought for a moment that I should require 
it. Having punished this generation by the plague, 
I was content to die, but now that I have found my 
dear daughter I want to save her. Oh, you say that 
you love her — if so, give me that phial and I will 
bring her hack again to life.” 

“ I cannot give you the elixir.” 

“ Man ! man ! have you no heart ? ” cried Malister, 
throwing himself on the floor and clutching Rebel- 
spear’s knees ; “ I tell you my daughter — my child 
who was lost and is now found — is dying. That 
elixir can save her. It failed with Kernshaw, hut 
it may succeed with my child. Give it to me at once. 
I helped you, now I call upon you to help me.” 

“ I cannot.” 

“Wretch!” 

“ Spare your reproaches,” said Rehelspear, with- 
drawing himself from the grip of the fanatic. “ I 
would save Eva if 1 could, not for your sake, but for my 
own, but I cannot. The elixir is not m my possession .” 

Malister jumped up with a frightful cry, and 
plucked at his long, white beard as if he would 
wrench it out by the roots. 

“ You have lost it ? ” 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


159 


“ No ; it was stolen from me.” 

“ Stolen ! and by whom ? ” 

“ Miss Laura Kernshaw.” 

The old man looked at Rebelspear in surprise, and 
for a moment there was silence ; after which Julian, 
seeing that his friend was too overcome by emotion 
to speak, hastened to explain. 

“ Laura Kernshaw is in love with Dr. Rebel- 
spear,” he said slowly, “ and stole the elixir from 
this room in order to force him to return her 
affection. She had it in her possession when Sir 
Luke was dying, and saw Rebelspear give him the 
water she substituted for the real cure without 
trying to save the old man’s life.” 

“ Her own father,” cried Malister, bitterly. “ O, 
worthy daughter of such a father ! ” 

There was something painfully grotesque in this 
speech, as both young men knew that, inadvert- 
ently, Malister spoke of himself. 

“Laura Kernshaw,” pursued Julian, smoothly, 
“ came here yesterday, and found Rebelspear plague- 
stricken. She offered him the elixir if he would 
marry her, but he refused, so she left him to die.” 

“ To die ! ” echoed the fanatic, in surprise ; “ but 
you did not die ? ” 


160 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


“ No,” answered Rebelspear, hastily ; “ luckily I 
had tried the effect of the elixir shortly after you 
gave it to me and put the preparation I had made 
away in yonder cabinet, where it was forgotten. My 
friend here found it, and I was saved.” 

“Then Laura Kernshaw has the real elixir?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ But she is with Eva,” stammered the old man in 
perplexity ; “ I left her with Eva. She can cure her 
if she will.” 

“Yes, but she will not,” said Julian, seeing that 
Frank remained silent. “ She loves Rebelspear, and 
wants your daughter to die, so that he may love her.” 

“ Oh, just God ! ” cried Malister, lifting his hands 
to Heaven ; “ how hast Thou punished me for mine 
iniquity ! I believed I was doing Thy will in blot- 
ting out London from the cities of the earth, but lo ! I 
acted but as my folly swayed me, and now the weapon 
that I forged for others is turned against me.” 

“You must save your daughter,” said Julian, de- 
cisively. 

“ But how ? in what way ? ” 

“ Let us all go to Park Lane and insist upon Laura 
Kernshaw giving up the elixir.” 

“Yes, yes,” cried Malister, putting on his hat; 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


161 


“ we will go at once. I will force her to give up 
that which she has stolen, even if I have to kill her 
to do so.” 

“ Kill her ! ” cried the young men, struck with 
horror. 

“Yes. Do you think that T value my life in 
comparison with that of my child ? Let the daugh- 
ter of Luke Kernshaw perish — let me perish myself 
— ^let all London perish, but my child must be saved. 
Come ! come, young men, let us go quickly lest she 
dies in' the arms of that traitress.” 

“ I was right, you see,” whispered Frank, as the 
old man glided out of the room and they followed ; 
“if I had told him the truth he would not have 
saved Eva.” 

“ Laura will tell him the truth when she finds out 
that he wants to kill her.” 

“ Let her,” retorted Frank, firmly ; “ as long as I 
get the elixir from her and save my darling.” 

By this time they were in the street, and could 
see Malister far in front of them, being blown along 
like a gigantic leaf. Indeed, so terrible was the 
force of the wind that they found it difficult them- 
selves to maintain their equilibrium, and their pace 

being accelerated by the fierce blasts, they fied, 
11 


162 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


rather than walked, towards Park Lane. The street 
was strewn with broken chimney pots, tiles, glass, 
and other vestiges of the wind’s work during the 
night, but there was no sign of it falling, and it 
howled through London under the bleak grey sky 
as if it were searching for the plague to draw it 
forth from the city it had cursed. 

“ I’m glad of this wind,” shrieked Frank in the 
ears of Julian as they staggered along. 

« Why?” 

“It will stay the plague. It will blow all the 
germs away, and if the rain comes afterwards it will 
sweep the city clean.” 

Julian made no reply as the roaring of the tempest 
was so loud that he could not make himself heard, 
and, indeed, he had missed the gist of Frank’s 
speech, so they raced onward after that shadowy 
black form which glided ahead like an ill-omened 
bird of prey. 


CHAPTER XV. 


THE SINS OF THE FATHER. 

Who was that lying upon the white bed so still 
and silent, with her hands crossed on her breast and 
her terror-filled eyes staring at the ceiling? Was it 
Eva Kernshaw or her statue, the living woman 
or her dead body ? In truth, it could have been 
taken for the dead, save for the anguish in the wide 
open eyes. The plague had seized her only an hour 
before, and already her limbs were paralysed so that 
she could make no movement, but she could still 
speak in a low whisper. When the disease arrived 
at her throat, however, that also would be taken 
away and she would be dead indeed — dead in all 
respects save as to the separation of the soul from 
the body. 

The room was in disorder, clothes hastily thrown 
about, the window blinds askew dust everywhere, 


164 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


and no sound but the steady ticking of the clock, 
measuring out the grains of time that still remained 
to her of this earthly life. She was alone, no one 
was beside her, and the unhappy girl felt all the 
agony of soul endured by her lover before her. 
Malister, who said he was her father, had left her, 
the servants had all fled, Laura was in another part 
of the house, and she was lying on the disordered 
bed waiting the sure approach of death. 

“ Frank ! Frank ! ” she cried, in a tone of agony, 
“ oh, where are you, Frank ? Can you not save me 
from this ? ” 

No answer, but suddenly outside in the garden 
sounded the song of a bird which pierced shrilly 
through the tumult of the wind. The rich notes 
comforted her for a moment and then seemed to 
wring her heart with pain, as they brought to mind 
all she had lost. Once she was rich in wealth, and 
health, and love — once she had a father and a lover, 
but now the father was dead, and the lover had fled 
where she knew not. Even her sister, Laura, who 
professed some affection for her, had left her to die 
alone, and there was not a soul in heaven or on 
earth who cared for her in this miserable state. 

How the wind howled round the house ! It was 


THE TEAR OF MIRACLE. 


165 


blowing a perfect hurricane, and she shuddered with 
inward dread at the thought that her soul released 
from her body would soon be tossed about on the 
wings of the fierce blast. If Frank could only save 
her — but it was impossible. His story of the elixir 
was false, as it had failed to cure her father. Her 
father ! who was her father ? — the dead man who 
lay in the darkened room below, or this fierce, aged 
fanatic who had lately left her. She did not know, 
and in the extremity of her terror at the near ap- 
proach of death she did not care. All she wanted 
was Frank, and on Frank she called again and again 
in a hoarse whisper, only to hear nothing in reply 
save the fitful song of the bird and the howling of 
the wind. 

“ O, Frank ! Frank ! save me from death ! ” 

This time it was not the wind, but her sister who 
replied. Her sister ? Impossible ! Could this be 
her sister, this cruel cold woman who stood by her 
death -bed laughing mockingly at her anguish. 

“ Laura ! ” 

“ Yes, it is Laura come to see you die.” 

“ Save me.” 

“No, I will not save you ! ” 

“ O God ! my sister ” 


166 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


“I am not your sister. You are the daughter of 
Matthew Malister.” 

“ It is not true. You know it is not true ! ” 

“ I know many things of which you are ignorant. 
You say it is not true; you are right. I am the 
daughter of Matthew Malister, 1 have known it for 
years but have never told it you until now. And 
why do I tell you now ? Because you are dying and 
cannot harm me.” 

“ I have no wish to harm you.” 

“ So you say, Eva,” sneered the other woman with 
a flash of hatred darting from her eyes ; “ hut what 
have you done save harm me all my life ? I am as 
beautiful as you, yet all admired you more than 
me. Frank Rebelspear is the man I love and he 
gave his heart to you ” 

“ Oh, Frank ! Frank ! ” wailed the girl, come and 
save me.” 

“ He cannot save you. He is dead.” 

“ No ! no ! ” 

“ It is true I tell you. Yesterday I went to see 
him and found him lying plague- stricken as you are 
now. I would have saved his life if he had promised 
to marry me, hut he refused, so I left him to die.” 

“ To marry you ! — He is mine — mine only.” 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 167 

“ So the fool said ; but had he been wise he would 
have given you up, and let me save him.” 

“ Save him ! You could not have done so ! You 
have not the power.” 

“ I have the power, my sweet sister ; but I have 
not the will. I could have saved your lover’s life. 
I can save yours. Do you see this phial ? — It con- 
tams the elixir which cures the plague, and I took it 
from Frank Rebelspear’s desk.” 

‘‘ O, Laura ! give it to me. Let me drink ! ” 

“ No, you shall die ! ” 

“Laura!” cried Eva in desperation, “I am so 
young to die ! Oh, do not let me die ! ” 

“ 1 will ! I refuse to save your life,” replied Laura, 
cruelly, putting the phial again in her pocket. 
“Your lover is dead and you can join him.” 

Eva gave a cry of anguish as she saw Laura turn 
away from the bed — a hoarse broken cry, which was 
the last sound that issued from her throat, for the 
disease had by this time attacked the vocal chords, 
and when she tried to cry out again she could not 
articulate a word. Laura, hearing the curious sound 
she made, guessed the cause, and returning swiftly 
to the side of the bed, stood looking down at the 
unhappy girl with a vengeful smile. 


168 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


“ It comes ! it comes ! You have lost the use of 
your limbs. You have lost the use of your voice. 
Your lover is dead, so you have lost all.” 

Eva looked at her with a strange reproach in her 
eyes, the meaning of which Laura guessed at once. 

“ I know what you would say if you could speak. 
That I also shall be seized by the plague. Be it so ! 
I can cure myself with this I have in my pocket. I 
shall escape the pestilence and inherit all the wealth 
of the man who betrayed my father and ruined my 
mother, but you will die as your lover has died, and 
he no more remembered.” 

She turned away with a scornful smile and went 
to the door, leaving Eva in a state of agony, both 
mental and physical, that can be better imagined 
than described. The clock struck eleven with a 
silvery chime, and she had opened the door in order 
to leave the room, wherein her rival was dying, when 
suddenly she heard the sound of hurried footsteps 
upon the stairs, and in another moment was thrust 
back into the chamber of death by Matthew Malister. 

“ Where is it, you daughter of sin ? ” cried the 
fanatic, seizing her wrist with his bony hand, “ Give 
it to me or I will kill you ! ” 

“ What do you mean ? ” 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


169 


“ The elixir ! the elixir. Give it to me.” 

“ I cannot give you what I have not got,” said 
Laura, recovering her firmness with wonderful celer- 
ity on recognising her danger. “ What elixir are 
you talking about ? ” 

“ The phial you stole from Dr. Rebelspear ! ” 

“ I stole nothing ! Who says I did ? ” 

“ Rebelspear himself ! ” 

“ He lied if he said so, and you lie in saying he 
did. I stole nothing from Dr. Rebelspear, and he 
is dead ! ” 

At this moment Frank, pale as a ghost, appeared 
on the threshold of the room. 

“ He is not dead, Laura Kernshaw ! ” 

“ Frank ! ” 

She turned white with terror, and reeling against 
the wall would have fallen had not Mails ter caught 
her in his arms. 

“ The elixir ! the elixir ! ” he cried, furiously shak- 
ing her; “demon that you are, my poor girl is 
dying. Give me that which will save her.” 

“I have not got it,” gasped Laura, white with 
terror, “ I swear I have not got it.” 

By this time Frank had crossed the room, and 
was now kneeling by the side of Eva’s bed, but when 


170 THE YEAB OF MIRACLE. 

he heard the last words of Laura, he turned round 
quickly with a frown. 

“ That is not true,” he said sharply ; ‘‘ you stole 
the elixir from my room yesterday, so it is now in 
your possession.” 

Laura bit her nether lip angrily and looked about 
for some way of escape. The window, Malister 
stood before it. The door, Julian Delicker frowned 
on the threshold. There was certainly no means 
of escape. They knew she had the elixir and that 
they would take it away from her — by force if 
necessary. Still she would baffle them, for her 
woman’s wit came to her aid, and sinking into a chair, 
she burst into tears. 

“Oh Frank, Frank! how can you speak to me 
like this, when I loved you so ? ” 

“ I know what your love is worth ; you left me to 
die.” 

“ I was mad with rage.” 

“Woman!” cried Malister, his eyes gleaming 
with mad fire, “ this is no time to talk thus. Give 
me that which you have taken or I — I will strangle 
you.” 

“I have not got it with me,” she replied, lying 
with ready subtlety. 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


171 


“ Then where is it ? ” 

“ In my bedroom. I will go and fetch it ! ” 

She arose to her feet and stole towards the door, 
hut with such a crafty look on her beautiful face 
that Frank called out to Julian to follow her, as he 
did not trust her in any way. Julian, who was also 
very mistrustful, went after her at once, and although 
she pretended that she did not notice his movements, 
she was in reality thinking of how she could rid her- 
self of him, and circumvent those men who had her 
in their power. 

To this end, having hit upon an idea, she went into 
her room, and was followed closely by Julian. Turn- 
ing towards him with a look of cold disapproval, she 
pointed to a cabinet at the end of the apartment. 

“ Since you have forced me to tell my secret, Mr. 
Delicker, and it is not in my power to protect my- 
self, you will find the elixir in that cabinet.” 

Julian without a word walked to the end of the 
room, upon which, with a jeering cry, she darted 
from the apartment, closed the door and locked it, 
so that before he could collect his scattered senses 
he was a prisoner. 

Then rapidly descending the stairs without wait- 
ing to put on a cloak or hat, Laura Kernshaw, in 


172 


THE TEAR OF MIRACLE. 


her fluttering white dress, fled from the house like 
some guilty being — then fled into the howling tem- 
pest, into the plague-stricken city, where she neither 
knew nor cared. 


CHAPTER XVI. ^ 

nelson’s column. 

Meanwhile Rebelspear and Malister remained in 
Eva’s room, the former still kneeling beside the bed 
with his eyes fixed on the flushed face of the sick 
girl, the latter with folded arms standing near the 
window muttering prayers. The bird, dismayed by 
the tempest, had ceased its song, and the fierce wind, 
increasing every minute, tore furiously round the 
house under the dull leaden-coloured sky, its shrill 
complainings mingling curiously with the monoto- 
nous ticking of the clock. 

As the minutes passed, and Julian did not return, 
Frank at last became uneasy at his non-appearance. 
Laura was a very dangerous woman, and in this 
time of lawless terror when all bonds were loosed by 
the dread of the pestilence he thought that she 
would be guilty of any crime in order to secure her 


173 


174 


THE YEAB OF MIRACLE. 


own ends. Expecting his friend every minute, how- 
ever, he said nothing at first, but at the end of a 
quarter-of-an-hour was about to speak to the fanatic 
when the door opened and Julian rushed into the 
room. 

“ Frank, is she here? is she here?” 

“ Laura ! ” 

“ Yes ; she decoyed me into a room under the pre- 
tence of looking for the elixir, and then locked me 
up. I managed to escape by the window, and came 
straight here ! Where is she ? ” 

“ Great heavens ! ” cried Frank, rising to his feet, 
“ she must have fled and taken the elixir with her ! 
Poor Eva ! now she must die.” 

“ Die ! ” said Malister in his deep- toned voice ; “ not 
so ! Let us pursue this daughter of Belial and take 
that which she has stolen from her.” 

“ But perhaps she has thrown it away.” 

“ Impossible ! she will keep it in order to save her 
own life ! ” 

“ Who will go after her ?” 

“ I will,” said Malister, moving towards the door, 
“ we will soon find her. She wears a white dress 
and cannot have fled far in this mighty wind.” 

“Frank,” said Julian, hastily, “Malister is right 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


175 


— the wind is so terrible that she cannot have gone 
far. You go with him to look for her, and I will 
wait here by the side of Eva.” 

Rebelspear assented at once and, accompanied by 
Malister, went outside into the roaring wind. Park 
Lane was quite deserted, but it was dangerous to 
traverse, as chimney-pots and tiles were constantly 
being hurled to the ground by the force of the tem- 
pest. At the gate of the house they found a poor 
plague-stricken wretch with just the capability of 
speech. There he lay helplessly paralysed, like 
Lazarus at the gate of Dives, but Dives himself 
was in a worse plight, seeing that he lay dead 
within. 

“ Have you seen a woman pass out ? ” asked 
Rebelspear, bending down to this miserable object. 

“Water! water!” moaned the man, thickly, 
“ water ! ” 

Anxious to obtain a reply to his question, Frank 
went inside and soon returned with a jug of water, 
which the poor wretch drained to the bottom. All 
this time Malister, with folded arms, stood like a 
statue of bronze, and never by word or deed appeared 
to feel remorse for the frightful evil he had brought 
upon the city of which this poor plague-struck 


176 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


wretch was an example. Frank repeated his ques- 
tion, and had to place his ear to the sick man’s 
mouth to hear the reply, so loud was the wind. 

“ Yes ! went down towards Piccadilly ! ” 

“ Piccadilly ! ” echoed Rebelspear, turning to Mal- 
ister, but the old man had already started in that 
direction, and Frank saw him with bowed head some 
little distance away battling with the fierce wind. 
He followed at once, as he could do no good to the 
victim of the plague, and with a great effort caught 
up to Malister. The fanatic’s lips were moving as 
in prayer, and as Rebelspear had quite enough to 
do in beating up against the fierce blast he said 
nothing to his aged companion, and the two men 
struggled doggedly onward amid the terrors of the 
tempest. In their path were great boughs of trees 
torn off by the wind, portions of railings, a smashed- 
up cabman’s shelter, and the Tod Fountain near 
Hamilton Place was snapped off its pedestal and 
lying in ruins some little distance away. 

Piccadilly itself represented a very gruesome 
sight, as in the centre of the road and on the pave- 
ments lay many corpses, and slowly lumbering 
down the road came closed carts in order to collect 
the dead bodies and take them away for burial. 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


177 


Some specially fierce blast of wind had lifted the 
roof of one of the houses completely off and hurled 
it into the roadway, where it lay, a terrible wreck, 
and under it the bodies of some unhappy wretches 
it had stricken down. Frank could, however, see 
no sign of Laura, and asked one of the drivers of 
the death carts if he had soen a young woman bare- , 
headed and dressed in white. After a moment’s 
reflection the driver said he had seen her turning 
down St. James Street, but he did not know where 
she was going. 

Considerably pleased at this intelligence. Rebel- 
spear hurried along with his companion as quickly 
as possible, and speedily found themselves in St. 
James Street. It now, however, became dangerous 
to proceed, owing to the gale, which was now like a 
cyclone as it rushed over London, leaving ruin and 
desolation behind it. Those unhappy beings who, 
seized by the plague, were unable to fly to shelter, 
lay directly in the way of all the missiles hurled by 
the furious wind, and at last in Pall Mall, Rebel- 
spear had to shrink into a doorway to escape being 
crushed to death. 

Not so Malister, however. The Prophet of Doom 

moved onward amid the desolation he had created 
12 


178 the yeab of miracle. 

as if he had a charmed life, and anxious not to lose 
sight of him, Frank at last ventured out of his 
place of safety and battled along in the direction of 
Trafalgar Square. 

There was no sign of Laura Kernshaw, however, 
and Frank despaired of ever finding her, when, on 
emergmg into Trafalgar Square, through Cock- 
spur Street, he saw, or thought he saw, a white 
figure crouching at the base of Nelson’s Column. 
Followed by Malister, he hurried towards this, 
and found himself face to face with Laura Kern- 
shaw. 

“ Too late ! ” she cried in a jeering voice, “ too 
late ! I have the plague.” 

“ The plague ! ” said Malister, with gloomy tri- 
umph. “ I am glad of it ! ” 

“ You ? ” she said with a bitter smile. “ You ? ” 

There was silence for a moment, and the three 
looked at one another. The square was filled with 
the dead and the dying, principally crowded round 
the fountain, whither they had crawled to assuage 
their thirst, but many of the statues were blown 
down, crushing in their fall the poor wretches who 
lay helplessly below. The equestrian statue of 
Charles the First, however, still stood erect, dar- 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


179 


ing the wind to blow it from its eminence, and 
round and round the square howled the cyclone 
furiously, as if it would level everything to the 
ground. 

Luckily, Laura, seized with the plague, had sunk 
down on the lee side of Nelson’s column, but the 
great pillar was swaying ominously, and after a 
hurried glance, Frank bent down to pick up Laura 
and carry her to a place of safety. 

“No! no!” she cried, repulsing him. “Let me 
die where I have fallen.” 

“ But the column — there is danger.” 

“ I care not ! I have the ‘ plague ! I must 
die!” 

Malister, who had been gloomily surveying the 
countenance of the fallen woman, now broke out 
furiously into speech. 

“ The elixir ? the elixir ? ” 

“ It is here in my pocket,” she said coldly ; “ but 
I think the phial is broken.” 

“ Ah ! ” Frank uttered a cry of alarm. 

“Yes,” said Laura, jeeringly, “you will never 
marry Eva — she will die, as I die now. I have lost 
you, but you will never be her husband.” 

“ Give me the phial,”, said Malister furiously. 


180 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE, 


“ No, I will not.” 

For answer he bent down and thrust his hand 
into her pocket, while she, paralysed by the Burning 
Sickness, was unable to prevent him. 

“ Oh, I hope it is broken ; I hope it is broken ! ” 
she kept on saying vindictively. 

“ No, it is not broken,” said Frank with a cry of 
joy, as Malister pulled out the phial from Laura’s 
pocket. “ O, Eva ! Eva will be safe.” 

He snatched the phial from the old man, and was 
about to dart olf, when a terrible cry from Laura 
stayed his steps. 

“ No, no ! ” she cried, looking at Malister in agony, 
“ give it to me ; give it to me ! ” 

“ No ; you shall die ! daughter of my enemy, as 
you are.” 

« I am not the daughter of your enemy ; I am 
your daughter ! ” 

He recoiled with a cry of horror. 

“ Mine ? Impossible ! ” 

“ Yes, yes ! I tell you I am. Sir Luke called 
upon Eva as he died ; and you thought she was your 
child : but it is not true. lam! I am ! Give me 
the phial — quick ! quick ! ” 

Malister darted forward and seized Frank. 


TUE YEAE OF MIRACLE. 


181 


“ The phial ! — quick ! — to save my child ! ” 

“ No ; no ! ” cried Kebelspear, trying to wrench 
himself away ; “ it is for Eva ! Eva ! ” 

“Never! ” 

Then began a terrible struggle between the two 
men. Malister, though old, was strong and wiry, so 
it was doubtful as to who would win the victory, 
while they twisted, and writhed, and wrestled, and 
reeled, all the time being encouraged by the voice 
of the dying woman under the pillar. 

“ Get it from him, father. Save me ; save your 
child ! ” 

Malister had his clutch in the throat of Frank, and 
the young doctor felt his strength giving way under 
that merciless grip ; but he fought on, blindly think- 
ing of what it meant if he lost the battle. 

“ Eva ! ” 

One cry, and with a Herculean effort, he hurled 
the old man from him. Malister tripped, stumbled, 
and fell beside his daughter, while Frank, with the 
precious phial in his pocket, fled as if pursued by a 
thousand demons. 

A furious blast of wind caught him at the end of 
the square and dashed him on the ground, from 
whence he looked up, to see the mighty Nelson’s 


182 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


Column reel, totter, and fall, with a crash like 
thunder. 

And under it — divided in life, but together in 
death — lay the bodies of Matthew Malister and his 
newly-found child. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


NEW ENGLAND. 

That terrible storm which swept over London was 
a blessing in disguise, for although it devastated 
and laid in ruins a great part of the mighty city, yet 
it swept the streets clean of the plague. After the 
wind came the rain, which fell in sheets as if the 
windows of heaven were again open, as in the days 
of Xoah. For days did that mighty rain drench 
the city, and when again the sky was blue and the 
winds had ceased, all trace of the Burning Sickness 
had passed away from London. 

Nor indeed was this good work of the storm con- 
fined to London alone, for far and wide through the 
length and breadth of the United Kingdom it swept, 
cleansing with terrible force the plague- stricken 
cities, until at last the pestilence utterly departed 
from Great Britain and Ireland. 

Order was once more restored in London, the dead 
were all buried, the houses cleansed and purified. 


184 


THE YEAS OF MIRACLE. 


and life began again ; but not the old life, for this 
frightful visitation of the Burning Sickness marked 
the beginning of a new epoch in England. With 
the dawn of the twentieth century dawned a new 
life better than the old. 

The hundreds and thousands that had perished 
in the great pestilence had left more room for those 
who survived, and the consequence was that work 
and food became plentiful. A great number of the 
poorer classes had been swept away, and in this case 
of the survival of the fittest those left in England 
to rebuild London and the social life of the British 
people were mostly either physically or mentally 
strong. The brain workers aided the physically 
strong in the work of rebuilding a new England out 
of the ruins of the old, and the twentieth century 
began its career under the happiest auspices. 

One of the foremost workers of the new age was 
Dr. Rebelspear, who married Eva Kernshaw very 
shortly after the plague had ceased. The elixir did 
its work, and she was saved to become Frank’s wife 
and to make his life happy after all the terrors 
through which he had passed. Julian Delicker 
acted as best man, and although the wedding was a 
very quiet one, seeing that the terror of the Burning 


THE TEAR OF MIRACLE. 


185 


Sickness had not yet passed away, yet it was very 
happy, and many a time afterwards did Frank con- 
gratulate himself upon having saved Eva from the 
pestilence and thus gained such a charming wife. 

Julian Delicker, too, was changed. No longer 
the gay society butterfly he had been in former 
years, he devoted his days and wealth to the re- 
building of the new system and to doing good to 
his fellow-creatures. The idle words he had spoken 
in jest about a plague had been realised in deadly 
earnest, and although there was no doubt that in 
the end the plague proved to have been a boon, see- 
ing that it had swept away the surplus population, 
yet the whole affair was too terrible for any one to 
wish it to be repeated. 

Whether Malister had actually brought the germs 
of the plague from the East, or whether the story of 
the city of Nar was a fable, Rebelspear could never 
clearly make out, but one thing was certain, that those 
deadly germs had multiplied very rapidly in the 
burning air of those months of June and July, so 
that he was entirely responsible for the frightful 
catastrophe which had befallen London. The bodies 
of the old fanatic and his daughter were found 
crushed to death under the ruins of Nelson’s Col- 


186 


THE TEAR OF MIRACLE. 


umn, and Rebelspear buried them both in one grave, 
while the body of Sir Luke was placed in a grave 
not far from that of his old enemy. 

Taking an example from the errors of the past, 
the Government of England formulated a scheme by 
which they hoped to do away entirely with a pauper 
population. The plague had cleansed as with fire 
the slums of Whitechapel and the low parts of Lon- 
don of their criminal population, and seeing that only 
the strong and healthy were left, these were made 
to work. Idleness was not permitted to either man 
or woman ; marriage between those weakly, either 
mentally or physically, was forbidden ; and altogether 
the rulers of the people did all in their power to aid 
the development of the English race so as to abolish 
from their midst disease, crime, and poverty. 

The great comet which had burned so near to the 
earth passed entirely away, and with it passed the 
Burning Sickness. The nineteenth century, with its 
overcrowded England, its crimes and its follies, also 
passed away, and in its place dawned the twentieth 
century, full of promise and hope to humanity. 

Long afterwards, when things under the new sys- 
tem were going smoothly, Frank was talking to 
Julian of that terrible time. 


THE YEAR OF MIRACLE. 


187 


“Ah!” he said, at length, when they had dis- 
cussed the subject for some time, “ it was a frightful 
year, hut still a year from which all that is good in 
this present century will spring.” 

“ ‘ Out of the mouth of the spoiler came forth 
sweetness,’ ” quoth Julian, eagerly, “ the plague was 
most miraculous.” 

“Well, then,” said Rehelspear, gaily, “we will 
steal an idea from Tennyson, and call nineteen 
hundred the Year of Miracle.” 


THE END. 


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